


A Different Kind of Death

by MystyVander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dark Draco, Dark Harry, M/M, Male Slash, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystyVander/pseuds/MystyVander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Complete! A cruel darkness has taken over Harry's mind. It plagues him every moment of the day and is devouring his soul. He does not know where these thoughts come from, but he is beginning to welcome them with open arms. He enjoys the solitude he finds in emptiness. His anger and growing hatred for many feeds his desire to become one with the darkness, one with emptiness and an inescapable void. It just so happens that Draco Malfoy has already become one with the darkness...in fact, he can even control it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Predator and Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine, unfortunately. If recognized it is either JK Rowling's or Anne Rice's (the quotes at the start to every chapter are from her works, The Vampire Chronicles).  
> Please read, review, kudos, enjoy.

_"We are predators whose all seeing eyes are meant to give them detachment,"_

_If there ever was an end, he failed the sight for seeing it._

_If there ever was a beginning, he had failed to avoid it._

_It was bound to happen. He knew it would come down to this. To darkness. To nothingness. To an eternal emptiness, poisoning every last thought in his head._

_Emotions had long since departed. All he felt was the cold underneath his skin; the growing apathy and submission into the void._

* * *

Partial to the cool, unforgiving night his footsteps echoed off the hollow alley. He strode stiffly, hands in his long, black cloak pockets grasped tightly in the fabric he couldn't quite feel. His lean figure stalked perfectly in the blanket of shadows, his grey eyes rimmed blood red narrowed at the flickering light far ahead of him.

From such a vast distance, he could use his keen senses to peer into that window. He saw few in the Hogs Head, much as he had expected. He walked with such pace and percision it was unnatural. Upon entering, the few people inside all turned towards him. Silence.

He was used to that by now. Wherever he went, gawking stares and silence followed along with the distinct smell of fear. Always fear. He was sick of its stench, clogging his nostrils and overpowering his mind. He despised commonfolk's fear when they gazed upon him, able to instinctively feel his power over them.

With a quick, swift movement of his hand over his face he pushed strikingly silver strands of hair out of his eyes. What the other magick folk had not seen was the small glammer he set into place, veiling the dark red in them. But his unmatched pale skin still stood out, and the cold hard expression of stone.

He took a seat on the bar stool, attempting to relax as much as possible but all his extremeties were tensed. He looked up at the bartender, Abberforth (SP?) Dumbledore. He seethed just seeing the brother of the Hogwarts Headmaster. "Firewhiskey," he spat venomously.

"C-coming right up," he stuttered, to disappear behind the counter and return with the ordered drink.

Draco Malfoy curled his hand tightly around the cup, he took a large gulp of it and let the tasteless liquid slide down his throat. It would not inebriate him even on regular circumstances, but now...now it was just for appearances. What he was thirsting for was something else. Something much sweeter than any kind of whiskey. That was why he had left his temporary home that evening; he was salivating for a taste.

Slowly he surveyed the bar which was returning to normal. The small crowd chattered, joked, jostled about and drank. The more ragged vagabonds sat near the back, discussing in low voices, some looked up every once and awhile and across the dimly lit room eyed Draco suspiciously, scowls on their faces. He paid them no mind or reason. Why need he?

Holding all the patience in the world, he softly lidded his eyes and stayed on the edge of his seat. He breathed in slowly, heavily, though he need not it steadied himself for a different type of modified Legilmancy. He sensed the emotions and auras of those around him, he gently proded into them one-by-one careful not to be caught. He took his time finding the one that interested him most. He concentrated on the feeling of that aura, of that persons emotional outreach.

Snapping his eyes open, they were immediately upon his prey for the evening. A young woman, not passed her late twenties. She appeared to be shy, and was being courted by a man of the same age. She wore a light summers cloak, a blouse and long skirt that fell to her ankles. The conservative type.

But Draco was more intrigued by what the man beside her would taste like on his teeth. His flesh looked hard and warm, a vein throbbed at his revealed neck. He wore a cloak unclasped, a v-neck blouse beneath it with small chest hairs curling out of it. His dark, brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and he was chatting animatedly, his hands alive with conversation and he smiled gleefully. The woman pursed her lips and laughed when appropriate.

Draco watched them for awhile. They drank and flirted, and his eyes never lifted from the man as he moved. As he Breathed. He could hear his heart thudding against his eardrums, he could already feel the essence of the man's life running wild through his own, cold veins.

They moved to pay their bill, he wrapped his arm around her waist tightly and they continued out the door, still wrapped in one another's conversation. Draco left a few Galleons on the bar table and swiftly stood as well, he strode out of the door and back into the night. With the moon hanging low overhead, burning like a beacon in the sky, Draco followed the memorized scent of the man.

They had not gotten far, they were strolling the streets of Hogsmeade with ease. They were walking towards the Three Broomsticks. Draco had to get them beforehand if he wanted him at all. So he moved as fast as the soft wind around them.

The streets being nearly empty worked to his advantage as he advanced on the unsuspecting couple. He was glad for the swiftness in which he could move, for the lightness of his feet. He was behind them, an alley off to their right. That was all he needed. Two walls and one minute.

He was taller than them both, his leanness poured over them but they still were not alert of his presence. "Good evening," he whispered darkly, they shivered and jumped into action but he was much quicker. In one vast motion, he had his sharp nails pressed piercingly into the woman's neck, she squeaked but was otherwise silenced by his hard hold. The man attempted to attack with his wand but one dark glare from Draco set him back.

The platinum-haired boy had his wand in his hand and pressed into her side, " _Stupefy_ ," he whispered, his eyes never leaving the man whose breath was caught in his throat. The curse flooded through her, knocking her unconscious as he let her limp body fall to the cobblestone.

"W-what do you want?" the man stuttered.

Draco pocketed his wand and grabbed him by the throat, with little strength he dragged him kicking into the shadowed alley. He threw his frail figure up against the wall, knocking his head hard and tilting it to the side. Draco's cold breath ghosted across his cheek as he admired his catch.  _'So beautiful_ ,' he thought to himself.

"You," he hissed in response, the pleasurable need for that thick crimson raked through his bodies, his nerves screamed at him to fufill his desire. Draco wasted no more time and brought his lips down to the man's neck who shivered as he kissed him. Before the mortal could speak again, Draco let his fangs slide into place through his gums and he sunk them into the nape of his neck.

Blood poured immediately onto his lips, into his mouth and down his throat. He lapped and licked, sucking as hard as he could as the man's protests were muffled by vast exhaustion. All of his life was sucked dry by Draco, who fed hastily. Once he pulled back, the man was empty and dangled in his strong grasp. He dropped him to the ground and retracted his fangs and pointed his wand at the corpse, " _Incendio_ ," he whispered.

His senses heightened, he watched the body burn to black ashes. He did not know how long he stood there, admiring the flames of his kill as the blood settled inside of him, powering him, but once they went out he kicked the pile and walked away to allow the ashes to scatter in the alley along with the summer night wind.

Without even glancing at the stunned woman on his pass by, Draco sauntered through the center of Hogsmeade feeling much more lively than he had since his last feed. He licked his lips in appreciation of the taste of iron liquid, he lifted the glammer on his eyes as he strolled back down the alley from whence he came.

Blood was all that was now on his mind, which was a grand distraction from the usual emptiness. Sweet, sultry, blood.

 


	2. Contemplations

_"Do you know what it means to be loved by death?"_

' _Everything I never wanted to happen has. Everything I knew has been taken from me. Everybody around me keeps dying, they continue to be swallowed up by death and it is all because of me. Why do I have this omen hanging over my head? Why does everybody look to me for their answers, to be saved? How do they expect me to save them when I can barely save myself? Can't they see I'm not what they wanted, can't they tell I am anything but a saviour?_ '

* * *

Harry stood at the window sill, peering through it and up into the midnight sky. The stars shown beautifully down, helping the moon light up the Hogwarts Grounds. He could not sleep, and barely did these days. Nobody asked him where he was any more, nobody asked him why he never slept because they already knew why. He slept to avoid the nightmares that plagued him, tortured him and contorted his mind a little more each evening.

He once looked across these Grounds in excitement, but all those type feelings had been wrenched from deep inside of himself and all that was left was this great hole in the center of it all. This gaping nothing, that called to him and was beginning to feel like home.

It was a wonder to him, how others could continue about daily acting as if nothing was wrong. How Ron could play Wizard's Chess with Ginny and laugh amusedly, or how Hermione could study in the library contently, how they could read the news of Muggle and Half-Blood murders every single morning but pretend it was nothing.

Slowly he was becoming less sympathetic of their needs, of their wishes for him to go out there and be their martyr. It was time he choose his own destiny, but at the sametime he had no other choice but to follow the path laid out in hot stones. Hah, destiny. Harry chuckled darkly, clasping his hands together on the ledge as his knuckles turned white.

Long ago destiny had taken the lives of his parents and also determined his own. That Halloween eve, fourteen odd years prior, Harry wished had never happened. Now his wishing had turned to pleas that his parents had never seen past their differences and unionized themselves, allowing for him to never been born and never having to feel this pain so wrathful it was brewing a monster in him.

He knew that when the war came to its fullest peak, he would have to kill with his bare hands and his wand. He knew he would be taking many other children's parents away, and all of their lives would be affected just because he had made it so. Harry had become comfortable with this knowledge and he almost condoned the future actions that must be carried out for the 'sake of War'. A useless war, one where neither side had anything worth fighting for. It was all selfish bigotry and arrogance that started it, and it would sure as hell be what ended it in a bloody rage.

Harry used to hope he would be on the winning side; that the Light would succeed, and momentarily his face would flash across all the papers victoriously with Albus Dumbledore standing strong at his side. Now he was not so sure of what he wanted, for it was becoming ever more apparant that even if the War ended his facade never could.

On nights like these, Harry hoped for Voldemort and his Death Eaters to come and take him away, Dumbledore's Secret Weapon, and murder him. He didn't even care if they tortured him first. Used the Cruciatus Curse a thousand times, lashed him to pieces - Harry just didn't care anymore. He wanted the pure darkness, the complete silence and lonliness of the afterlife. He longed for it. Maybe even he could see his parents there, and Sirius too.

When there wasn't enough energy for him to lie to himself or hope any longer, Harry would just allow the void to indulge and grow blacker inside of himself. It's not like he minded it, the only problem was that Hermione, Ron, Remus and others that were close to him were being hurt because of it.

Did they not see how much their dependancy and hopefulness was killing him? Did they not understand that if you stare at the dawn for too long, you might miss the sunrise entirely?

Harry understood, which was probably the worst thing of all. Life would be so much simpler if he were naive, if he just did what he was told to do without a second thought of the consequences and the eventual outcome. He could act just like a normal Hogwarts student, asides from his extracurricular lessons with Professor Snape, Remus and Professor Dumbledore. All could be simple, if he were thick enough.

So, when everybody else lay deep in their fitless slumbers Harry envied in the Gryffindor dormitories, Harry would venture outside and usually up to the highest point of the Astronomy Tower to look out across the Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake and the Grounds. He would shut off his mind, shut off his emotions and just enjoy the security that the endless night brought to him. It soothed his bubbling rage, his magick growing so much stronger by the day that it threatened to explode from his core.

It was the fourth day into the first term of Sixth Year at Hogwarts, and it felt like he had already been there for months. Harry would have preferred to have stayed at Grimmauld Place, mourning Sirius and completing his studies there but Dumbledore would not hear of it whatsoever, saying the proper social interaction was quite necessary in his development. Harry thought otherwise, he thought that Dumbledore just wanted to keep him in the public's eye so that Death Eaters and Voldemort himself were not suspicious of any activity the Order of The Pheonix could be planning. 

All of a sudden a chill ran down Harry's spine and a feeling of being watched came to him. He stiffened and straightened up, his hand went to his cloak pocket and rested around the length of his wand even though he was already trained to cast spells without it. "What do you want?" he hissed in the night, without turning around to find out who it was behind him. Why should he care? He just wanted them gone, he wanted this Tower to himself.

There was no response but Harry could still feel anothers presence, there was a small suond of feet shifting slightly and he felt the person coming closer to him. Harry closed his eyes tightly and sighed, leaning more heavily on the windows ledge now as the person was less than a foot behind him. "What do you want?" he insisted through gritted teeth once again.

"The question is," a voice purred, breathing cool air on the side of his cheek, tickling his ear, "What do  _you_  want?"

Harry shivered involuntarily. He recognized the voice and was about to put a face to it, but then they spoke again and seemed to be closing in even more as the brunette was paralyzed. "You think of death. Of darkness and destruction. I hear your thoughts of a hopeless future, and the deepest of desires for eternal night," they continued on, their voice like molten chocolate so coarse dripping deeply. "What would you say if I could offer that to you? A life, separate from the one you live now, but a dead life?"

"I would say yes," Harry quickly answered without thought, for any life was better than the one he was currently stuck inside of.

The man behind him chuckled darkly, and suddenly there was a hand grasping Harry's nape of his neck. The hand was slender with long, glass-like fingernails and adorned with flawless pale skin. It felt as cold as death as it grasped him in place. "You must not be so rash, for you do not know what you ask for,"

"And you don't know what I need to get away from," Harry snapped, whoever this was was beginning to get on his nerves. The man sounded so sure of himself, so upright in his words.

"Oh, but I do Harry. And I would very much like to take you away from it, but in due time. We must not be vast in our actions. Besides, I would very much like to court this the  _chivalrous_  way," the man laughed amusedly. 

Harry could have sworn he felt lips, soft as silk, graze the other side of his neck overtop of his messy raven hair. Then fast fingers pushed aside his locks and the strangers hand held him more tightly now, almost painfully if it didn't feel so good. The razor-like nails dug into Harry's hard flesh and droplets of blood appeared on his skin, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his mind blurred. ' _Why does it feel good_?' he asked himself absently, he was being injured but for some reason something inside of himself was telling him it was supposed to be pleasurable.

"For now, I shall give you a taste of what I am offering you. You will know me after this Harry, you will not only see me but see  _into_  me. As I already see into you," the voice faded as teeth were brought down onto Harry's neck.

It was safe to say that these were not regular teeth, as two sharp fangs easily pierced through his skin with a sickening sound. Blood rushed excitedly from his veins, throbbing outwards and into the others eager mouth. Harry heard the man moan gutturally with desire as his tongue lapped at the wound, he sucked and licked all the blood that poured out of the mortal.

Harry felt himself growing weak rapidly. His knees were giving in and he would have fallen if not for the stronghold of the man drinking his blood. His mind was beginning to slip from himself until he finally got what he asked for; Nothingness.

 


	3. Observation

_"Do you know what his soul said to me, without saying a word?"_

_Mistakes can be made._

_Sometimes one can experience a vast empitness and confuse it for nothing. That's where he went wrong._

_As light was brought to him, he now craved a new sort of darkness. One in which was not all to himself, but one he could share._

_In sin he vowed himself to reap what he had not thought possible; the companion to die by his side._

* * *

As the morning light came, he cursed its arrival and hurried to drink his Potions. Tasteless, unlike his sweet sultry dessert the evening before. Nearly overcome with a rush of adrenaline from the memory, he swallowed deeply and steadied himself. There were others around him, passing shy glances as they went about their morning rituals. They distanced themselves from him even more now, fearing his power over them.

He rather preferred it that way, the distance from others so he would not have to waste their precious oxygen in responding to their tedious questions and observations. There were the days when he was seemingly unlucky and had not placed his Glamour Charms correctly for his physical attributes were more noticable to the leymen. Those were the days where a moments rest seemed like a faroff facade.

Apparantly he exuberated anger that Autumn morning, for even those in the corridors seemed to quickly take strides in the opposite of his direction just for avoidance.  _'Good,'_  he thought with his head held high, his silver eyes piercing narrowly,  _'These ingrates are only a nuisance anyway,'_

Upon coming into the Great Hall, his attention was immediately pulled over towards the Gryffindor Table where he shot a thorough glance. Out of habit ever since attending Hogwarts, Draco had to pay special attention to the Gryffindor's. It was something about their enthusiastic nature and foolish belief in comraderie that made him despise the House. They were humans, didn't they realize that they would betray one another just for the safety of their own lives in a heartbeat?

That was the difference between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor in Draco's perspective. The Slytherin's were just open about how utterly cold-hearted they were as a race.

In light of the circumstances Draco decided it was neither here nor there, considering his complete detatchment from said race. He wasn't quite human anymore, though how he fooled others daily was beyond him having never had the knack for acting.

Smoothly he lowered himself down in his usual spot at the Slytherin Table, students shooting him quick glances too scared to be caught. He ignored them as he piled pointless food onto his plate, but he was distracted as a cool flame shot itself through his body. He hissed aloud, knowing just exactly what that feeling meant. Every muscle in Draco's body tensed as his eyes focused solely on the entrance to the Great Hall.

He dared not move as the flame grew warmer inside of him to the point where it felt like boiling water was residing under his skin. Draco clenched his fists on either side of his plate, barring his teeth as his fangs unhinged themselves. It was the scent of Harry Potter that was driving him insane. At least he could confront what it was so he could attempt to squander his sanity and control himself.

As a creature thirsting for human blood, it was difficult for Draco not to have drained Harry the evening before. But there was something so much more alluring about the brunette that evening than the scent of his crimson, and that thing Draco found so charming was discovered in his darkest thoughts. His deep secrets, unbeknowest to those surrounding his life.

Even now as his inadvertant friends flanked his sides they refused to notice his detatchment and ill contentment towards the rest of the world he was being forced to protect. Sympathy was not the word Draco felt for Harry, but something much more like pity. Inside of his pity was understanding of the daily aspiration to rid yourself of the world.

"Draco dearest, did you finish that essay Professor Snape gave us in Potions?" Pansy Parkinson's squeeky voice popped up beside him, she was leaning in and batting her eyelashes.

_'Why can't Parkinson take the hint like everybody else and notice that I don't want to be bothered?'_  Draco growled venomously to himself before turning to her with a forced, sweet smile that made her knees shake. "Sorry, Potions you say? Of course I did, do you take me for a Gryffindor?" he sneered.

Pansy giggled and shook her head, leaning in slower now with her hand on his shoulder, "Oh Draco, I was just making sure. The other boys were having problems with it, but I should have assumed you would have it under your control," she winked.

Draco involuntarily shivered and suddenly felt dread. But it wasn't his dread.

He looked up from Pansy to across the Hall where Harry was now sitting between that Granger Muggleborn and Weasley. His eyebrows were knitted with befuddlement, his lower lip being bitten softly by his teeth, and his hands were yanking distractedly at the ends of his long hair. It was beginning to work, he must have taken enough from Harry for he was starting to feel his emotions.

The troubling thing about this was that Harry had no idea what was happening to him. He stared back across at Draco, dumb-founded and at a loss for thought. He couldn't explain it to himself why he felt dread seeing the blonde Slytherin across the Hall from him, for he had been sitting in the same such arrangement for the past six years of his life. But something was different this morning, something was hidden beneath the quick look they shared. It was unexplainable to Harry, and that is where the dread birthed from.

Draco shut off his receptors to Harry, breathing deeply and turning back to Pansy with a stiffened posture. "Please Pansy, I have much to think about and would like to finish breakfast on my own," he snipped before turning down to stare at his plate, pushing about food he was never going to eat. He didn't even look back up to see the look of hurt on Pansy's face as she finally slinked away from him and further down the table to sit with Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott.

Draco kept allowing himself to look up and across the Hall at Harry from time-to-time, but when he looked up nearing the end of breakfast his view was askewed by Blaise Zabini sitting down across from him with a sly smirk on his face. He rolled his eyes and rapped his glasslike fingernails on the oak table, "What is it, Zabini?" he drawled unamusedly.

"Just wondering why you're attempting to send Potter to an early grave using only your eyes," he grinned, leaning with his elbows on the table.

Catching the irony in that statement, Draco found himself chuckling darkly, "Need there be a reason to wish to be rid of the Boy Wonder nuisance?"

"Guess not," the olive-skinned boy shruggeed, "Will you be joining us to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"Of course not," Draco clipped, he had always hated those trips ever since Third Year and only went on them for the sake of holding up comraderie.

"Too bad, I overheard the Weasel telling the Mudblood that he was going to send Pothead on a blind date. It should be amusing to watch from the sidelines," Blaise chortled to himself, he was just about getting up from the table, knowing Draco long enough to understand that small talk was useless.

That caught Draco's attention as he quickly grabbed Blaise's wrist with speed and held it tightly, his cold digits twisting around the others frail wrist. Blaise looked down at his wrist and hissed, "Merlin Dra-"

"Potter's going on a blind date?" he snapped, interupting his housemate who nodded his head. "With whom?" he seethed. The mere thought of Potter conversing in the ways of flirtation indicating coitus infuriated him, at that was an emotion he had never been good at keeping under control.

"I-I dunno. Like I said, I just heard Weasley talking about it...it is a  _blind_  date. Look Malfoy, if you're really that interested why don't you come to Hogsmeade with us?" he quipped, snaking his hand out of Draco's grip with a glare. He turned on his heel and strode away from the Slytherin Table as Draco's eyes trailed after him. He pursed his lips and turned his attentions back to the Golden Trio sitting opposite him across the Hall.

Potter's head was hanging low, his fringe nearly ghosting the top of his filled yet untouched breakfast plate. Weasley was ranting on about something excitedly as Granger was looking between her boyfriend and her best friend calculatingly. It didn't take supernatural senses to comprehend that Harry was different than he had been last year, but only a brain suchas Granger could grasp the signs that it was something more than just a mood change.

Once breakfast ended, Draco moved swiftly through the crowded corridor towards his first class of Double Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was glad Professor Snape finally got the position he so longed for, but Harry didn't seem too happy about it himself. Neither here nor there as Draco took his seat at the front of the classroom amongst other Slytherins, he sat beside Theodore Nott who didn't bother greeting him as he slung his shoulder bag onto the desk. The Trio sat two rows behind them and to the right, so it didn't take much of a strain for Draco to peer back at Harry.

He had felt such a strong wave of dread coming from the raven-haired youth at breakfast but he did not know why it had arisen in the first place. It had something to do with his presence and Harry couldn't put his finger on it either.

"Today we will be discussing the benefits and effects of advanced paralyzation charms and hexes," Snape began his lesson, his back already to his students as he chalked on the board the key points of the days class.

Draco need not waste his time on paying attention in class anymore, it was something trivial to him that went along with the Malfoy facade he was fathomably keeping in firm place. He twirled his quill between his slender fingers, peering over at Harry who was obviously not listening to the lecture either as he stared blankly down at his parchment.

_He looks so empty. There is nothing behind his eyes, and it is easy to tell that these mundane tasks of life mean nothing to him anymore. He is so much like I used to be, just worse at hiding it._ Draco thought solemnly.

Through the entire lesson he barely looked away from the Gryffindor, observing his every move and just how much Granger babied him. She took down his notes, constantly whispered him inquiries of how he was doing and he would barely respond. Sometimes he would give her the harshest of glares when she wasn't paying attention, and there was so much anger poured into it that it almost made Draco laugh out loud.

He recalled briefly the thoughts he had been eavesdropping on the night before, and he focused on the feelings that were portrayed behind them. They were feelings too familiar to himself, and ones he knew just exactly how to get rid of. Draco had no desire for childhood queries any longer, but an extremely large curiousity of the meaning of those feelings that were not his.

At the end of class he was quick to pack his things and interupt Harry as he stood slouching from his own desk. The brunette slowly brought his piercing emerald eyes to Draco, he glowered at him, "Malfoy," he spat in greeting, such venom laced into the surname.

Draco was not taken aback by how much emotion and hatred Harry could now push into a word, for he had figured as much from his previous thoughts. "Potter, there is most certainly no need for such hostility," he chastised jokingly.

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, "What is it, Malfoy? I'm not in the mood for you," he demanded, his friends waiting eagerly and worriedly on the sidelines.

The blonde leaned across the table and put on his fakest, most earnest expression, "I'm rather confused about today's lesson, and knowing that you are the most talented in Dark Arts I was wondering if you could perhaps go over some notes sometime?" he asked and thought to himself,  _'If I get on his relative good side at school, perhaps he will take it more lightly when I make him mine,'_

Harry's face went wide with incredulous surprise, "In hell, Malfoy," he finally responded coldly before turning and leaving, Hermione and Ron quickly following.

Draco smirked, he hadn't expected his civil nature to work in reciprocation on the first time, especially with somebody as heavily troubled as Harry, but he did get amusement out of his attitude.

"What was that all about, Draco?" Pansy asked, appearing at his side looking up at him curiously.

Draco's smirk fell into a snarl, "Sod off, Parkinson," he hissed before walking out of the classroom as well.

_'It is going to take time, but that is all I have. And do not worry Harry, I will give you that darkness you so yearn for,'_


	4. Cheating

_"I came to make peace with you, even though you are the Father of lies,"_

_It's coming nearer. I can feel it, but I still don't understand what it is. It is as if my eye is pressed at one end of the looking glass and as I peer in, the path before me is fogged by my own inadequacy. What is it that is happening to me? The growing desire for night to fall and day to stay at bay is erking me for I don't know where it comes from or why it's there._

_I feel you, wherever you are. I know you're listening to me because I can tell I am not alone in my thoughts. If you can hear me-please let yourself be seen._

* * *

A soft knock sounded at the door of the Sixth Year Boys bathroom. "Mate, you in there?" called Ron from the other side.

Harry sighed heavily, his shoulders hunched as he looked up at his dour reflection in the mirror. His skin was much paler than usual, his eyes looking like crows feet, and two prominent fang marks rested in the nape of his neck looking as if they'd never heal. He quickly waved his hand over himself, setting a proper Glamour in place. Yet, even that Charm could not hide his unease.

"Yeah, coming," he grumbled, pushing his hands off the sink and trudging towards the door. When he opened it he swept right passed Ron's questioning face and to his bed. He crouched down into his trunk to pull out his school cloak and put it on, clasping it tightly shut.

"Uh, 'Mione and I will meet you outside the Common Room then," he muttered, leaving Harry to finish gathering his things for the morning lessons before they headed to breakfast.

As he packed his things, Harry was reminded of the events of two nights ago as his body felt heavily fatigued even after a full nights rest. Had he really lost that much blood to...to whomever that was?  _Whatever_  that was? He shook his head, he had to stop dwelling on something that so abnormally absorbed his thoughts. Harry slowly stood, his school bag slung across his shoulder heavy with textbooks and parchments, he took a shallow breath before leaving the Dormitory and exitted the Common Room without so much as glancing at his fellow Gryffindor's.

The mark buried beneath his Glamour on his neck signified to him that he hadn't been dreaming or hallucinating about what had happened, which was kind of comforting in his point of view since it inferred he was still sane.

As Ron had said, the couple were waiting outside of the Fat Lady's portrait for Harry, who didn't stop for them as the three started off down the moving staircases to the Great Hall. "Good morning, Harry," Hermione greeted softly from Ron's side.

"Mornin'," he mumbled in return, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets and his eyes transfixed on the stairs in front of him as he was still lost in thought.

"You two  _do_  remember that we have a quiz in Potions today, right?" Hermione asked.

Ron groaned, "I can't see why you couldn't remind me last night! Bloody hell, now I've gotta cram all breakfast for it!" he swore, already getting his textbook out from his bag as they still walked.

Harry didn't respond, nor did he care. He still despised Potions even if Professor Snape was no longer teaching it, really he despised every subject at Hogwarts these days. He just couldn't grasp the practicality behind any of them, or what use they would be to him if he was just a living sacrifice.

Hermione and Ron continued a small banter all the way down to the Hall about how he should've been studying for the quiz last night, and Hermione shouldn't have to have to remind Ron of all his homework. It was easy to blank them out, it had become a habitual response for Harry.

Breakfast went by with nothing out of the ordinary. Harry barely touched his food; it tasted foul lately in his mouth, as if it were poisoned or decaying, so instead he had to pretend he was enjoying his meal even though his face was pulled into a tight frown the entire time. When it was time for Potions and they were entering their usual dungeon classroom, the seating arrangement of long rows had been modified into two-person desks. Harry waited at the back of the classroom with the other NEWT-level Potion students as Professor Slughorn finally arrived at the front of the room.

"Good morning class! Today is our quiz relating to all the potion properties we have learned in the first quarter of the term! I have decided on a new seating arrangement which will be inarguable and unchanging. I have matched those who most need assistance with this subject with those who have shown previous exempliary work based on your OWLs," Professor Slughorn continued talking despite the unsatisfactory groan from his class. "Miss Granger and Mister Gregory Goyle, Mister Zabini and Miss Brown, Mister-"

Harry let Professor Slughorn's voice fade away as he felt the strangest bout of ache fester in his head. He furrowed his brows and tried to shake it away, but for some reason he couldn't.  _'It's just like in The Great Hall yesterday morning...when I felt something...and I didn't know...it feels so_ strong _and so_ real _...but where is it coming from?'_  and just as he had down two days ago, his eyes feel across the room to meet Draco Malfoy's.

Malfoy had such liquid silver eyes, much different from what Harry could remember from their earlier years. Perhaps it was just puberty, but something in those orbs rather unnerved the brunette. The Slytherin was staring at Harry unblinkingly, his posture tall and strong, his slender figure leaning against the far wall of the classroom and his breathing seemed shallow. Malfoy looked like a statue standing there, unaffected by all those around him as he pierced his gaze into Harry, his long platinum hair pulled back into a loose ponytail had a few straggling strands brushing across his porcelin skin.

"Mister Potter," Professor Slughorn said, shaking Harry out of his stupor to look away from Draco, "and Mister Malfoy,"

  
"Oh cripes," Ron mumbled loud enough for everybody to hear him, a few others chuckled beneath their breaths but were silenced by Draco's quick, hard glare.

Harry ignored them and grudgingly walked to the desk that Slughorn had picked out for them and slid down beside the blonde who was already unpacking the contents of his bag in search for a quill. For some reason sitting beside Draco made Harry's hair stand on end and sent a shiver down his spine. He edged himself to the furthest end of the desk, as faraway from the Slytherin as possible.

"You didn't study," Malfoy whispered monotonely beneath his breath, his voice ten times deeper than Harry recalled.

"I-you-" he stopped himself blathering, "Why are you asking?" he settled with, reaching down to retrieve his own quill and ink bottle.

"You must have misunderstood me, I was not asking I was stating," Draco curtly responded, and in ignoring Harry's gawking expression he reached over and yanked the brunette's quill from his hand in a quick motion.

"Hey! Malfoy, what the bloody hell-"

"Shush, Potter, must we draw attention to ourselves constantly? Do you seek being the center of the universe all the time?" Draco teased, though there wasn't much malice behind his cold voice as he took out his wand and quickly scanned the classroom to ensure nobody was looking. " _Effingo Lacuna_ ," he muttered, and all of a sudden Draco's quill, laid now beside Harry's, lit up a soft green colour and then it looked like the green shifted over to Harry's quill. The spell ended quickly and it disappeared, thankfully not having averted any others attention as the glow from the incantation was miniscule.

"What the fuck did you just do?" Harry seethed, grabbing his quill again and feeling no effects of the spell whatsoever. He looked at his quill oddly at angles, trying to decipher just what game Malfoy was playing.

"You needn't be so rude, Potter. I know you didn't study so don't try to lie to me, so I just altered our quills so that whatever I write down, you write down as well. The duration of it only lasts an hour, but I doubt I will need more time than that to finish this wanker's quiz," Draco explained and without so much a further explanation as to why he would assist Harry in passing a Potion's quiz, he turned to his blank piece of parchment in front of him.

Professor Slughorn was up at the front of the class, explaining the peramaters of the quiz and the time alotted to complete it. Harry couldn't help but to continue gawking at Malfoy, for he had no idea whether to believe him telling the truth or not. This was Draco Malfoy, the bane of his existance next to Voldemort for more than five years, why in Merlin's name would he ever assist him?

"If you do not believe me, all you have to do is ask Potter," Draco grumbled, not so much as turning to face him. Harry's jaw dropped, it was as if Draco were reading his mind with saying that; were Harry's exprsesions really that easily read? "And no, I didn't know that because you're easy to read or some bollocks like that, I'm not a Divination expert here,"

"I-Malfoy you are so..."

"Watch," Draco cut him off sharply and dipped his own quill in ink, "Come on then, lets do a demonstration before he devies out the quizzes," he looked expectantly at Harry's quill in his calloused hands.

Harry, eyeing Draco wearily the entire time, dipped his quill into his ink bottle and brought the tip of it to his blank bit of parchment. Draco quickly scribbed down on his parchment and then looked over at Harry, "Now try to write anything," he ordered softly.

Harry began to write his name but instead felt a strong jolt in his hand, something took over his muscles and he pushed against it, trying to write on the parchment. He jumped as Draco's cold breath blew across his cheek, the blonde was close to him now, "Relax," he breathed.

Trying hard to keep his sanity in check with the obscurity of the moment, Harry let go of himself and allowed his hand to be manipulated. It was a strange feeling, as if his hand were posessed, and then when he looked down on his parchment a simple sentence read, 'Malfoy's never lie,' Harry almost chortled aloud at that one, which sounded like a loud of bollocks for he could remember quite a few occasions where a Malfoy had fibbed.

"See," Draco boosted, edging his piece of parchment which said the samething, only neater.

Harry grumbled disbelievingly, "Why are you helping me?"

Whoever invented time decided he was going to put it on pause for a moment as Draco turned slowly to look at Harry, his eyes sharp and clear, and being so close Harry could distinguish an odd, light red that outlined them. But he was distracted from that anomaly as Draco lowly whispered in a tone he had never heard from the Slytherin before, it was something close to sincerity though Harry wasn't quite sure he could really put a name to it.

"Because sometimes the weight of the world is too heavy for ones shoulders,"

Harry was taken aback as he blinked at Draco who turned easily to the quiz which was just placed on the front of his desk. He readied his quill and took a sidelong glance at Harry who shook out of his stupor and put his own charmed quill to the Potions quiz.

The rest of the lesson went by quietly, Harry's thoughts were mixed into nothingness as he watched his hand being manipulated smoothly across his quiz. Every once and awhile he would peer over Draco's shoulder to see if they were still writing the samething, and they were. Eventually he didn't even bother reading the questions they were answering, for Draco answered them too quickly for Harry to keep up. Harry found a new appreciation for the Slytherin's extent of knowledge especially in that particular subject. He had never seen anybody, not even Hermione, finish a quiz so quickly (and hopefully correctly).

Up on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom it stated that they could leave if they were finished so long as they turned their quiz into Slughorn. Draco got up before Harry did, he strode up to the front of the class and dropped his quiz onto the Professor's desk. Harry pursed his lips and looked down at his finished quiz and sighed, he couldn't get up at the exact sametime, it would look too suspicious. He didn't bother putting on an act of having difficulty answering the questions, but he pretended to be writing yet was instead scrawling pictures of spiders up and down the columns of the parchment.

When he felt as though enough time had elapsed, Harry got up from his desk and handed in his quiz. He gathered his things and left the classroom. Suddenly he didn't feel quite in the mood for his other classes, most of them had Malfoy as a classmate and he didn't know how he was going to react to his presence at the time. Instead he retreated to the Owlry, a place where he was pretty confident his thoughts would not be interupted and Hermione nor Ron would go looking for him.

Harry went over what had just occured in Potions, fine-pointing every detail he could. Why had Draco been so helpful, to him of all people? It was unlike the Slytherin to assist others if it did not assist himself in the end. What was he getting out of helping Harry pass a quiz? None of it added up, and he didn't have the mental energy to decipher the code it was in at that time. He still felt incrediably drained, weakened even by the crisp Fall air up in the Owlry.

Hedwig sighted her master and hooted, flying down to greet him. As she neared she paused in her flight only for a moment, like a flinch. She landed beside him on the ground where he now sat up against the wall, observing the Hogwarts mail Owls. He reached to pet Hedwig and she recoiled slightly but then gave into his touch. It was strange, his bad moods never seemed to effect her but in the way that she was responding to Harry said differently.

Harry shrugged and decided to ignore it as he pet her for awhile, filtering out his thoughts as he did so. With his current physical condition and the problem still of who that man was from two evenings passed, there was no time to waste on perilous thoughts of Malfoy's odd behaviour.

Instead now, he found himself yearning for the hours to pass. He hadn't really desired anything in a long time except to be left alone, but now he desired for it to be night. He was too weak last night to even think about risking himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower once again, hoping to see that stranger. But now he felt strong enough and his curiousity needed to be fed.

Harry found an obscure form of excitement growing in the pit of his belly for the coming night, so that hopefully the mystery will unshroud itself to him.

 


	5. Merlot

_"We kept to ourselves, pondering the mystery of each other,"_

_Our desires rarely reflect what is right. If it were what is socially acceptable, than they would be too easily fufilled and that would take the excitement out of it all._

_That is why I have come here, why I have found you in your darkest hours._

_I will give you that which you try to convince yourself you do not want. I will force you to think about what you have been told is wrong. I will make you beg for more of the darkness I have to offer you. And in the end, you will be mine._

* * *

The corridors were empty, just like Draco liked them. He was pacing slowly back and forth just at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower stairs, contemplating as he carefully listened to the occupant at the top. He felt his desire for his presence, he smirked at just how much Harry was wishing for him to arrive any moment. For a second, Draco thought it would be amusing to leave him there, wondering all night. Instead, his own desire for another taste of Harry's thick blood took over.

It had been over half an hour now, and Draco decided to ease Harry's aching thoughts. He slowly climbed the stairs, prudent to enter the Astronomy Tower at the right moment. Harry's back was turned, looking out onto the Grounds as he had been during their first interaction.

Draco, with vast movements, was suddenly standing right behind Harry, his cold hand strong on his right hip keeping him in place. Harry made a squeak of surprise which he shushed, "You think too much," Draco hissed lowly.

Harry shivered physically, cocking his head to the side straining to get a glance at Draco but with no such luck. "I was hoping you would come," he whispered hoarsely.

"I know," Draco responded, keeping his grip on Harry's hip so he couldn't move or turn to look at him - it would ruin the great illusion. "I have not heard you thinking as you were the other night, instead you are thinking of me," he stated slowly, his free hand began to work its way gently up Harry's other arm until it was caressing his fang marks.

Harry's eyes shot open wide and he bit down hard on his lip to surpress a moan, accidentally letting little drops of blood pull into his own mouth. He couldn't understand why such a simple touch aroused him so much, but he knew he wanted more. Without even thinking, Harry was pushing back into the other who held strong and kept him in place.

"B-because thinking of you distracts me," Harry breathed truthfully.

"Yes, I can see how it would," Draco smirked, his cold breath sending goosebumps down Harry's spine. "But no matter how much I give you to think about, there are still those other thoughts that consume you. Tell me, why do you let them control you?" he asked, out of his own curiousity. He wanted to know why Harry thought as he did these days, and he wanted to know if it were the same reasons he used to have.

Harry seemed to pause for a moment, he leaned his hands forward on the Astronomy Tower balcony and looked out across the grounds and in a low voice said, "It is better for those thoughts to control me than for me to control myself,"

Draco blinked,  _'He is so much like I had been before...this_ ,' he thought to himself. "You are scared of yourself, but I urge you not to be,"

Harry shook his head, "I have to be. If I give into what I feel, what I want, I am going to hurt those around me so-"

"They deserve to be hurt!" Draco snapped icily, his grip tightening even moreso. His silver eyes were rimmed with a deep red now, from that small cut Harry's teeth had made in his own mouth made Draco thirst for another taste of the sweetest blood he had ever had. "I know who you are dying to protect, and they do not deserve it, none of them. They are using you,"

"What am I supposed to do? Let them die?"

"They are going to let you die. So who are they to choose whose life is more important? That is why I am here, Harry. To offer you a new life they cannot touch, one that is all for your choice," Draco's words softened, he wanted to coax Harry into his posession, to tempt him and have him crawling to him in the end, begging to take his life. He would have it; The-Boy-Who-Lived on his knees before Draco, powerless as he asked to be taken.

"What does this life entail? How will it ever allow me to escape everything? Everyone..." he trailed off, his voice was strained and Draco sensed his feeling of apathy washing over him. He brought his dead lips to that warm skin, making Harry gasp as he trailed a few soft kisses on his neck.

"You will become as I am, and when you do you will have the choice to do as you wish; to save them or not," Draco said into his ear, revelling in the way his raven locks felt against his papery cheek.

There was silence for a few minutes where Harry seemed to be thinking, but as Draco could read his mind he noticed that his emotions were too muddled for him to think one coherent thought. "What did you do to me?" Harry eventually asked, "You bit me, and you took my blood, but that's not all you took. I-I feel different now,"

"Different?" Draco urged him to continue as he pressed his body harder up against Harry's, his hand snaked from his hip to wrap around his abdomen as he held him there. He was glad Harry was so emotionally distraught, for in being so he did not deny him this comforting physical hold.

"There are these feelings I get, and I don't know why or where from. They confuse me. And I hate food even more than I did before, it all tastes rotten. They only thing I enjoy is water," Harry admitted.

"Ah, that would be because you have been poisoned by my feeding on you. You have begun to change into what I am. And those feelings, those would be mine that you are feeling. With practice, you can distinguish them from your own and awknowledge them. If you were intelligent enough, you could even learn of who I am by following them," Draco chuckled beneath his breath, he could feel a million questions pop into Harry's head after his explanation. "For now, I would advise you eat only grains and drink only tea or wine. They are the most digestable of foods, in my opinion,"

"T-thank you," Harry said after a moment, "Are you a student here?" he asked.

"Of course, why else would I be ontop of the Astronomy Tower," Draco smirked.

"So you can walk in sunlight," Harry stated oddly.

Draco paused before answering this one, "You know what I am? If you do, you should also come to the conclusion that I am a Wizard considering I too attend Hogwarts. Being as such, there are cures for some of the lesser admirable aspects of being what I am," he explained.

"A vampire," Harry said, unsure of himself. He hadn't done any research, only internal guessing. He couldn't come up with anything else this stranger could be.

"Does that scare you?" Draco hissed, for effect he scraped his sharp teeth up Harry's neck.

Harry's eyes opened wide as he moaned and leaned more heavily on the ledge, "Yes, but-but it makes me want more," he stuttered.

"Your wish, Harry, is my command," Draco smirked. He couldn't stand it anymore. During their entire conversation, his growing need to taste Harry's blood became so evident it felt like his mind was being flooded by it. So in a quick motion he bit down just below where he had before, sinking deeply into his warm, lively flesh.

Harry made a strained noise before leaning his weight back on Draco submissively, he closed his eyes as his mind drifted off and the sensations rushed through his body. Draco lapped at his skin, drinking in as much as he could in a short period of time. His mind became ravenous as the taste overwhelmed him. Then came the time when Harry's mind shutdown, went black as the night surrounding them. His body went limp in Draco's arms, just as it had the other night.

Draco held him easily and looked down at him, he pushed his fringe out of his face. "It is funny how just a small scar could determine your life so fully," he said, tracing Harry's lightning bolt scar with his finger lightly.

After admiring Harry's still form in the moonlight for a few more moments, his taste still hot on Draco's tongue making him refreshed, he then brought him inside the Castle. He walked with him in his arms through the corridors until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. One quick, easy scan of Harry's succumbed mind gave Draco the password. He entered the Gryffindor Common Room for the first time and took not a moment to look around, he felt no need. He brought Harry to his bed and laid him in it.

"Sweet dreams, Harry, until tomorrow," Draco whispered, and with that he was out of the dormitory.

His words, however, had stirred another in the room. Ron groaned and rolled over onto the side of his bed. When had had gone to sleep, Harry was nowhere to be found, and now he lay still ontop of his blankets, fast asleep and stiff as a board. Ron blinked a few times in the darkness, adjusting to it. It was odd, Harry usually always slept with his hangings closed, too.

Ron slowly rose from his own bed and over to Harry's, he bent down to get a closer look at his friend and gasped at what he found, etched into the usually clear contours of his neck.

* * *

Draco was pleased to observe Harry in the next few days. He dined on an empty plate, save for bread, and drank only tea for wine was not allowed for underage persons. Apparantly he had taken his advice. There was a strain, easy enough for the entire student body to notice, between the Golden Trio, however. Most thought it was to Harry's darkened mood, how easily he snapped at those who interupted his muddled thoughts. But Draco saw deeper than that. It wasn't Harry, but the Weasel that was causing the tension. He could not quite put his finger on it, but the redhead was visibly distancing himself from his girlfriend and best friend. Draco was only slightly curious as to why, though he need not waste his time for his focuses were meant only for Harry.

He felt so much more livened and light-hearted after his last feeding, he had taken more than the first time and somehow it even tasted sweeter still. No blood he had had before could compare to Harry's, and he doubted any blood after could either.

Today was a Hogsmeade day, and Draco had promised Blaise he would join them just for the sake of mocking Harry's blind date which the brunette still did not know of. After breakfast, almost every student above Third Year clambered onto the carriages to be taken to the Wizarding Village. Pansy was blathering the entire time, ignoring Blaise's petty insults, and attempting to get Draco's attention.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade, Draco immediately set off for Madame Puddifoot's, the ideal place for a date. Blaise was hot on his tail as they grabbed a table together, glad none of the other Slytherin's seemed interested in waiting in the girlish coffeehouse for the Wonder Boy and his date to arrive.

"It's Lavender Brown," Blaise informed Draco after they ordered their drinks, Draco even convinced the watiress to bring them red wine with the flutter of his eyelashes.

"Ah, rather insufferable is she not?" Draco hummed, his eyes never leaving the entrance to the restuarant. Lavender Brown was already seated at a table by the window, far enough away from them that they were not noticed but not unseen.

The minutes passed and the two Slytherin's made small talk until Harry finally arrived and they diverted their full attentions towards him. He looked extremely paler than normal, and much angrier as well. He joined Lavender, a bubbly sort of girl, with a strained smile and an attempt and seeming happy to be there with her. Draco found that slightly comical.

A few drinks went by and Harry actually seemed to be warming up to Lavender, his mood lightened and his conversation was more free than it had been before. To tell the truth, Draco hadn't seen Harry interact so freely with somebody in a long time.

Something Draco could only pinpoint as jealousy rose in his blood as his hands balled into fists on the table top. He was completely ignoring Blaise now who was rattling on about something, and his eyes were narrowed at the couple by the window. ' _How dare she think she can have what is mine_ ,' he growled inwardly.

Lavender even had the audacity to reach across the table and kiss Harry on the cheek before skipping off to the bathroom momentarily. Draco's head swam now. She  _kissed_  him.  _His_  Harry. ' _That bitch. Who does she think she is? Harry is mine, those marks on his neck prove it,_ ' he grumbled. But then the light switched on in his head. It was not Lavender Harry went to the Astronomy Tower almost every night to hopefully meet. It was not Lavender that consumed nearly his every thought, it was Draco, and he was keen on reminding him of that.

"Be back," Draco said quickly, interupting Blaise and standing up from the table to goto the counter of the coffeehouse. He leaned over it at the cashier and waitress, he fluttered his eyelashes and smiled the best he could, making her swoon almost immediately. "Excuse me, could you please bring a glass of red wine to Mr Potter by the window, but put it on my bill?"

"O-of course, would you like me to-"

"Please, I would prefer you not to tell him who gave it to him. But could you please say that I said it might taste better," Draco sported a dazzling smile, his allure fully on as he spoke in a low, seductive tone to the girl. She stuttered before walking away. Draco smirked, pleased as he went to join Blaise once more and take a gulp from his own sour glass of wine.

Lavender still had yet to return from the bathroom as the waitress brought over a glass of Merlot to Harry. "Malfoy, what was that about?" Blaise asked, unsure of why his housemate went to talk to the waitress.

"Oh, I just thought that Potter ditching Brown mid-date would be a lot more amusing than watching them actually hit it off," Draco grinned largely, his eyes transfixed on Harry. The brunette was being told something by the waitress and when she turned to walk away, his eyes were wide as plates. He was staring down at the glass of red wine, his hands shaking visibly underneath the table.

Harry's eyes searched the restuarant until they fell on Draco and Blaise's table. His breath stilled in his chest, his pulse quickened, and he flushed a horrid shade of red. His eyes were trained on the two glasses of red wine. "What do you think the bugger wants?" Blaise hissed, glaring back at the Gryffindor.

All of a sudden, realization seemed to hit Harry and he jumped up from the table and rushed out of the restuarant. Draco simply could not contain himself from letting out a satisfied bout of laughter. "What the bloody hell-Malfoy, what did you do to make him-"

Blaise was cutoff by Lavender's presence at the table again. It was safe to say that neither boy had laughed so hard at anothers expense like that in a long time. It felt rather nice.

_'See Harry, you're mine_ ,'

 


	6. Accusations

_"I walked all night, I walked as I had walked years before when my mind swarmed with guilt at the thought of killing. I had thought of all the things I had done, and couldn't undo. And I longed for a moments peace."_

_'I see them watching me. Looking into me as if they understand what it is I stand for. They contemplate the fact that I may be crazy, but they never really accept it for reality._

_They expect me to live beside them, as one of them, as if I could ever be like them. Don't they realize how different I am? I could never be like them, not with a fate such as mine._

_Instead of trying to please them, I will create my own destiny. One I actually look forward to completing,'_

* * *

In the evening after Harry's failed date with Lavender, he sat in the Common Room before the Gryffindor hearth, his eyes fixated on the unlit logs as he twirled his quill around his fingers. What had happened earlier that afternoon didn't make much sense to him, and it was beginning to eat away from the inside out. His eyes bearing down on the merlot wine, his heart stopping in his chest. He could only make one connection to what the waitress had told him, and that was the stranger in the night.

He knew he was being utterly foolish and suicidally dangerous, but the only thing that kept him trudging through the days now was the thought that some night soon he would meet him again. He would be priveleged to feel those teeth sinking through his skin, piercing into every part of him, and giving him more pleasure than he thought possible. Most of all, it granted him a period of nothingness, where only darkness shrouded his thoughts. That was the thing he appreciated about his new strange friend the most, the void that he seemed to live in.

There wasn't any one night where Harry did not find himself contemplating on the edge of the Astronomy Tower. Still, only twice had He come to him, fed on him. Next time, Harry was certain he was going to distinguish just who this man was in reality. The curiousity was killing him, and if he knew his name than perhaps Harry could turn into the Hunter instead of the Hunted.

"Mate," Ron nudged Harry from his thoughts, taking a seat next to him on a separate armchair, "You doing alright?"

"Mhm," Harry shortly responded, hopefully the less he spoke, the quicker Ron would leave him be once more. His head was too locked in a maze for real conversation, and ontop of that Harry saw no point to really endulge in such useless mannerisms.

"Up for a game of Wizard's Chess? That is, unless you're busy-" Ron trailed off, always so cautious like most people around Harry those days when his tempermental moods could truly surprise one.

"Fine," Harry bit between his teeth, discarding his quill onto the table in front of them.

Before, it had been more than satisfactory to have rounds of Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap with Ron. Before, Harry enjoyed his lessons and took value in the education he was recieving at Hogwarts. Before, he regarded his friends as the most important thing in his life. Before, he did not have the pressure of an incrediable, relieving void impending ever so soon.

The change had begun in Harry the night Sirius Black was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. Never had Harry felt such anger coming from inside of himself, such need for bloody revenge. Sirius was the last family he had, and it had been taken from him just like his parents. Then the summer dawned on him and he was locked away at Number Four Private Drive, to mull in his depression and loss.

Rare letters were carried to his windows, and only few weren't shooed away by Vernon Dursley. Those letters spoke almost nill of Death Eater activity, The Order of the Pheonix activity, or Sirius' will. Finally, just before school began, Harry was given that said Will and he barred his teeth. What was he to do with Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? And if it was his by ownership, then how come he was rotting away in Little Whinging still with his nasty, Muggle relatives treating him like vermon?

The truth began to slowly unveil itself in Albus Dumbledore's actions and the previous things he had been telling Harry. It was so obvious, but being only a teenaged boy Harry had not caught onto it earlier. He was being used outright for the sole purpose of being Dumbledore's Ultimate Weapon and defeating the War against the Dark. Harry spat at it. How could righteous, noble people use a boy as young as he?

So he came to the conclusion that he was distance himself from all those who called them his friends. He knew it was an intricate web of lies and hopes that he would sacrifice himself for them. They wanted him to take their bullet, and he saw no other way out of it. Harry began to understand it all as Fate, because now the Dark Lord was inescapable.

But he may have found a way to allow his bitterness to fester with honesty. To live how he wishes despite what prophecies may say. Harry had already convinced himself that he would follow this strange man into the darkness he was offering, because either way he was going to die.

Harry recalled the way the man's arm felt around his waist as he fed from him the second time, so strong and sturdy. He felt safe, like that man would protect him and not offer him up as bait.

Ron jostled him out of his thoughts again, they had been playing Chess for sometime now. "I said 'Mione's here. S-she wants to talk to us...in private," he stuttered.

Harry raised his eyebrow slowly, the redhead seemed nervous. Slightly interested, Harry got up and left his quill and their game abandoned at the table in the Common Room. Hermione was surely enough waiting by the Potrait Hole, a supportive smile on her face. She led the way out of the Gryffindor Tower and down to the Room of Requirment.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked as he eerily watched Hermione pace back-and-forth for the rooms door to appear.

"We would like to talk to you, Harry," Hermione said, and the newly appeared door she now held open for her boyfriend and best friend to enter.

Harry shot her a questioning glance before entering the room. The only thing conjured up inside of it was three armchairs and a table with tea on it for each of them. They sat down around it, all tentatively sipping at the hot beverage. Harry eyed his 'friends' over his cup. He had not the energy nor care for these dramatics, there were more important things he could be occupying himself with.

He didn't ask what they wanted, he merely sat and waited for one of them to speak. They both felt highly uncomfortable, shifting in their seats glancing between one another. "Er, the other night...I-I heard you come in late...again," Ron began shakily, "B-But this time I heard somebody talking...I got out of bed to check on you...and..." he breathed heavily.

"What is it? Am I not allowed freedom to walk the Grounds at night?" Harry hissed, he didn't like this inquiry. Whose voice had he heard?

"I think what Ron is trying to ask, Harry," Hermione cut in smoothly, "Is whether or not you have a-partner?"

"A..excuse me? You know well enough I don't have the time for that bollocks," Harry snapped, he could already feel his heated anger rising within himself. How dare they bring him here to accuse him of such nonesense.

"Are you letting somebody use you for something you feel uncomfortable with? If anybody is forcing you to do anything Harry, you can tell us and we can make it stop-"

"What the  _fuck_  are you two on about?" Harry growled so deeply they both stopped dead, eyes wide at him. His emotions, so closely connected to his magical core, seemed to set it off as the lights in the room flickered and the hot tea in their cups shook momentarily.

"I saw bleeding  _fang marks_  on your neck, mate! Hermione did a magical detection charm and we know you've been using Glamours everyday!" Ron finally blurted out all at once, his voice rushed and his breathing quickened.

"You cast a magical detection charm on me without asking?" Harry glowered, turning to the bushy-haired girl.

"For your own good, Harry! You must understand! We are so worried ab-"

"Worried, are you? So you've dragged me down here to accuse me of being...what, exactly? Did it ever occur to the two of you that I bleeding put those Glamours on everyday because I can't sleep at night so I look wretched? Or maybe Ron wasn't seeing clearly, he was half-asleep..."

"Harry, all the symptoms fit. I have read about this kind of thing happening. When a vampire chooses a human to be its mate, that human then becomes extremely vulnerable to their charm and would do anything for them. Vampires use this to feed off the human they so desire. You only eat yeast-based foods, you only drink water, you sleep through most weekend days and stay up late...it's the exact behaviour they describe," Hermione explained haughtily.

During the entire explanation, Harry considered his options. He could bluff some more, get angry and storm off. Or he could come out with the truth. Whichever it was, his anger for the two Gryffindor's was becoming rather overwhelming and he would rather not be convicted for their murders that night.

"What is happening between me and Him cannot be found in your precious books, Granger. What he takes from me, I ask for him to take it," Harry spat venomously.

Hermione and Ron's face were ridden with confusion and revelation all at once. Harry stood up from his seat and left his cup of tea and started towards the door.

"If I were you, I would stay out of our business. Who knows what He would do if he found meddlesome fools like yourselves budding in," with that, Harry left his friends in a wake of befuddlement as he cursed and headed quickly towards the Tower. It was a risky move, but he knew those two well enough that they wouldn't go sharing that information with others.

Up on the Tower's ledge he waited with the cool, night breeze. His fists clenched at his side and his breathing baited. Unfortunately that night, he spent alone in the darkness, craving his company.

* * *

"Mr Potter, late as always. May I say that it would be rather surprising if you were to arrive on time for my class," Professor Snape drawled from his spot at the front of the classroom, Harry was merely a minute late but he still felt the need to point it out.

"No, you may not," Harry grumbled under his breath, loud enough for Snape to hear.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor snarled, "Five points from Gryffindor, for pure insolence," Snape hissed. "Now before we were interrupted, I was arranging the new seating plans for our final assignment. You will be working randomly with whom you are picked to be with, no alterations may be made,"  

The class groaned and got up from their seats, ready to make any moves necessary. Why did it seem that every Professor had new seating plans every month? It was just torture for the students who had to sit beside a loathed enemy. Harry, for once, thought this a good thing because then at least he wouldn't be sitting beside Ron or Hermione.

Professor Snape named off the students by last name, pointing his crooked finger to where they were to sit. Almost immediately did he call Harry to the very front of the classroom, right before the teachers desk, and sitting beside Malfoy.

"Is it just me, or do all the Professor's have a bet on how soon we are going to throttle one another?" Harry mumbled, sliding into his seat and putting his textbook on the tabletop.

Draco, surprisingly enough, laughed beneath his breath. "Am I that bad that you have the irresistible urge to do so?"

"Ah, er...no," Harry stuttered, unsure of how to answer that, "I still have to properly thank you for helping me with that Potions test. I actually passed it for once,"

"I knew you needed help, just as much as I will need from you in this class. I never give without getting in return," Draco finished, his eyes never leaving the profile of Harry's face as the brunette was looking down, flipping through the nimble pages of his text as the other students were still being assigned their seats.

Still not in the mood for conversation, Harry pretended to be absorbed in the class materials. He felt oddly more comfortable about sitting next to Malfoy than next to his Gryffindor prat-friends.

"Been a little tension with the Golden Three lately?" Draco drawled.

"Excuse me?" Harry returned icily.

"Oh, it's just obvious you are upset with them. I am just wondering why is all," Draco explained softly, trying to add as much sincerity as he could to his voice.

Harry eyed him suspiciously, but he had nothing to lose in confessing to him. Even if it was Malfoy. "Hermione thinks she knows everything. That if she reads something in a book, than it has to be true. But she doesn't understand that it doesn't always happen like that...that sometimes, there are special cases and...different outcomes. I refuse to be a victim to their rueful accusations, and my unreliance with giving them information on my personal life has upset them," he finished tartly.

Draco found this highly amusing, how easy it was to persuade Harry to admit these things to him. Of course, he could have just read his mind to figure it out, but this helped secure and develop their relationship. It was an opportunity he wasn't willing to miss.

After a moment he spoke, "I find that when people think they know more than I do about a situation I am apart of, I turn to the books. I know that is just exactly what the Mudblood has done here, but if you say it is personal than perhaps you could take a different out look on the facts?" Draco suggested gently. Just then Professor Snape was finished assigning seats and back at the front of the class to begin the lesson.

Harry was blinking for a few times, astonished with how rational that sounded and the fact that Draco was trying to help him again. He wondered if this became a habit of the Slytherin's would he ever get used to it, and he doubted it thoroughly. "Er, thanks again Malfoy,"

Draco sent him a sidelong smile that did what Harry thought was the impossible and brought one warm, small smile to the corner of his dried lips.

 


	7. Don't Run

_"I assume I need no introduction,"_

_'I am going to take you with everything I have, and without failure shall we become mine. Even though hatred still crawls through my skin, your blood sinks in deeper.'_

* * *

It was a cloudy evening, and Draco was glad he finally got to set eyes upon it outside of the Slytherin Common Room. He had waited for dinner to pass by reading by the fireplace, not wanting to be disturbed or distracted by anybody else. Before the other students came back to the dungeons, he escaped up to the Astronomy Tower and waited. Harry should be there not much later, and Draco's senses were tingling with excitement. Not just for Harry's blood, but also for his reaction to who he was.

It was the end of October, almost Halloween, and Draco felt that it was time to reveal to Harry whom he was. He had been bettering his relationship with the Gryffindor in Potions and Dark Arts, bringing them to a tolerable level much to the Weasel's unease. Even though Harry's thoughts could be easily read, it was still difficult to foresee how he would react to the circumstances. Draco's charm and poison ran deep through the boy now, right alongside his growing hatred and cool withdrawal.

Draco stiffened, his muscles taut as he backed further ino the shadows hidden in the edges of the Astronomy Tower. He could smell Harry, walking unevenly up the stairs and onto the landing. The brunette didn't notice the others presence thankfully as he scanned the Hogwarts Grounds, slowly walking closer towards the edge. He sighed and leaned on it.

It was easy to see the boy was much weaker and strained than he had been at the start of term, not only due to the large quantity of blood loss but there was a rumour going about the school that he was tending extrenuous lessons with Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. Draco knew this to be true, Harry was being crafted in the arts of Occulmency, Leglimency, and the old coot was bettering his abilities at wandless magic. Draco knew he could be a much better teacher than what they had to offer Harry, and in so many more disciplines.

He stepped out of the shadows and came swiftly behind Harry, wrapping his arm around his waist as he had before. The hard embrace felt familiar and soothing to both now, and Harry didn't even question his presence as he sighed and leaned back against him, absorbing the cold frame.

"Why do you make me wait so long to see you?" he breathed, eyes slitted shut and heart racing though he remained indifferent.

"And why is it you long to see me so often?" Draco countered softly, his mouth curling into a smirk. The nights' breeze blew Harry's fringe from his forehead and the ends of his thick mane tickled Draco's skin like raindrops. He buried his face in the nape of Harry's neck, breathing him in deeply and embracing him harder. Harry seemed not to mind, though he shifted a little bit so that his hand now lay ontop of Draco's.

"I have nothing more to look forward to, other than death-how bloody exciting is that," he mumbled.

"Oh, I don't know, death can be an adventure in itself. It is something rather spectacular to behold, and it gives one the feeling of endless possibilities. For one as hopeless as you, it could grant you every wish you never even dreamed of," Draco whispered, his voice smooth and husky all at once. It was that honey tone that shivered down Harry's spine, that made him weak in the knees and inexplainably vulnerable to the creature who grasped him.

"Hopeless?" Harry returned, "Is that what you think of me?"

"That is what I  _know_  of you. You have come to the conclusion of what I am, this much I am sure. You must also understand that your thoughts are not private to me-"

"How can that be true, I use Occul-"

"Simple Wizarding practices such as Occulmency will not block my prying mind, especially since it is well trained. What you do is forced magic, and what I posses is natural to me. Both are two very different kinds of phenomena," Draco explained, "And I have seen that you will not give yourself hope, that you have lost it and believe that the only thing you have to live for is to die. That is why I am here, Harry, to give you the choice of dying and in doing so bringing about a wholly new life,"

"You know you don't need to ask, you know I'll take it. You know I will," Harry spoke hoarsely. 

"No need to be so eager, patience is a virtue I hear," Draco hummed softly, lifting his head up slowly, tickling his cheek some more with Harry's raven hair. "The gift I have to give you takes time, or at least I believe it should. If it is done too quickly, I fear you will not bode well with your new circumstances," he said.

Harry was silent for a moment, running things over in his head. "Why are you giving me the choice anyway? I thought vampires were foul, rotten, selfish creatures. I never would have thought one to attempt to assist me,"

"That is a stereotype. And who says I am not those things, Harry? To be what I am you must murder mortals and drain them, you tend to do cruel things which never crossed your mind in your life before this one. And, if I recall correctly, I did say I never gave something without getting in return," Draco smirked, and untangled himself from Harry to take a step back away from him.

Harry didn't move from the ledge, nor did he turn his head to get the first glimpse of the stranger in which he could. "Turn, Harry. I implore you not to run from me, for it will hurt much more when I catch you," he ordered strongly. 

Harry, stiff like a statue, turned to face the other boy. His eyes went comically wide and his mouth fell open only to be clamped shut once again. Draco was standing there, arms crossed over his chest and a large smirk on his face which he softened into the best smile he ever could muster, which wasn't much.

"M-Malfoy?" Harry stuttered, befuddlement clouding his otherwise stoic features.

"Surprised?"

Harry shifted the weight on his feet and found himself blushing, looking down at the ground as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Er, no, actually. I-I was kinda hoping it was you,"

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow, "Were you now? And why is that, might I ask?"

"Uhm," he blushed heavily, "I was sort of suspicious of you when I was on that date with Brown last month. I could tell there was something different about you this year, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I did a magical protection charm, I know I shouldn't have. I found you wore Glamours everyday, just like me. For awhile I made poor excuses to avoid the truth, but now that it is standing right in front of me there's no need to," Harry shrugged, still too embarrassed to look up and across at his classmate whose eyes were burning into him.

"Hm, apparently I was not reading you well enough then," Draco mused, taking a strong step forward.

Harry's entire form clenched as he felt Draco's presence draw him in, "W-What did you, uhm, see in my head?" he stuttered.

"A lot of what I saw in my own, a long time ago," Draco admitted softly, his eyes still piercing into Harry's head, "Also, I was under the belief you rather despised me, Harry," he drawled icily.

A deep crimson blush flooded down his neck, "Unfortunately, and strangely, you are the most tolerable person in my life,"

That sole confession didn't exactly surprise Draco considering who Harry kept company with-a bunch of Gryffindors-but hearing it said aloud birthed something he thought was long ago dead. Stunned now at the re-emergence of such a feeling, he stood still as the wind pushed against his cloak softly.

"I-I mean, Hermione thinks she is running my life, making all of my decisions. And Ron, urgh, he  _pries_  everyday. It's so bloody insufferable! And the others...they all look to me with answers, with hope, and they expect me to save them but I don't know  _how_ ," Harry took a deep, shaking breath and finally regarded Draco, "You aren't like that. You let what is be, and you never pry. Regardless if I like it or not, you'll always be there to the bitter end, whenever that is. A-And I can be ensured that you'll never change who you are, I can count on that with everything I have," he finished, still blushing but confident enough with his declarations to penetrate Draco's hard shell with his iris'.

"I can't say I'm not flattered, or flabbergasted, I haven't quite figured which one yet," he drawled, smirking and gaining his confidence once more by closing the distance between them. 

"L-listen though, I ought to be more careful, Hermione and Ron think som-"

"More careful? Are you hearing yourself, Potter? Careful of what?  _With_  what, if I may inquire?" Draco spat, he didn't like the last little piece of Harry that held respect for people who did not deserve it. Scum of the Earth such as the Weasel's and Dumbledore.

Harry was taken aback by the sudden harsh tone of his voice, it was so intimidating and demanded servitude, "Just with w-whatever this is, wherever it's going...uhm, they already suspected of me being with a v-vampire," he uttered the word beneath his breath, as if to imply it to be forbidden or dirty.

Draco felt heated rage drive itself from the pit of his stomach upwards, in merely seconds he was overwhelmed with the fire that consumed him he forgot all about his desire to taste Harry and to have him begging for him to take his life. "You are not with me, you are  _mine_! There is a difference Potter, I suggest you learn it and do so quickly. Let them bleeding expect it, for Merlin's sake why not just tell them the truth? Or not tell them at all, like it is any of their damned business!" Draco huffed, superiority and vile reaking from his scowl.

"On the other hand, it is still your choice whether or not we continue this," Draco finished a little more lightly, straining himself to the best of his abilities.

"It, it is?" he asked, astonished that he actually had options.

Draco took one menacing step forward, his anger still overriding his desire as he brought his hand to bundle together Harry's cloak and yank him fiercly into his hard body. He glared down at him as Harry swallowed, "Do not be a fool for one minute and think that I am suggesting it is up to you whether or not I feed on you until every last drop fabricates my tongue, for whatever your choice I will still make all of you mine," he hissed before turning away and beginning to head down the Astronomy Tower. He couldn't take his anger and passion so immensely at the same time, he had become accustomed to severance from emotions.

"Draco! Draco! Please wait!" Harry called frantically after him, not knowing what he was going to propose or say but feeling the need to continue their conversation, as heated as it had turned.

Draco shot one last glare at him and glowered, "I suggest you think your priorities over Potter, before I get tired of waiting. I have already done enough of that for you that I am willing to admit," and with that he was gone.

With agility Draco sped through the emptied corridors fuming, whoever crossed his path tonight would be sorry. The House had gone to their dormitories by the time he returned to the Slytherin dungeons, but unfortunately for him there was still one soul sitting by the fireplace indulging in his Charms textbook.

Slowly he folded it and nodded his head to regard Draco's presence, slowly rising from his armchair. "Out late again, Malfoy?" Blaise's voice was littered with accusation.

Draco growled, "That is your business, how?"

"Touchy, touchy. I was merely making an astute observation, you see I am very good at those," he smiled slyly, slinking around the armchair to come face-to-face with Draco behind the Common Room couch.

"Sod off, Zabini,"

"But I'm not done ye-"

"Then get to the fucking point," Draco snapped, still heaving from his sour interaction with Harry.

"I've known you for years Malfoy, and I've never seen you this fiesty," he winked before straightening out again, "Were you out seeing Potter?" he asked more seriously.

Draco's mouth dried and he pursed his lips, crossing his arms he stared down at Zabini. "How is this your business?"

"I'll take that as a yes then. You see, I've noticed you being all nice-as nice as Malfoy's can be-to the Golden Boy this year. All of a sudden, there's all these rumours going around about Potter's state. Apparantly he goes out all night too, and he hardly ever eats. Only drinks water and has bread, just like you. That struck me as curious, because I can recall last year you had quite the fixation with strawberry creampu-"

Draco had heard enough, he grabbed a hold of Blaise's cloak much like he had just done to Harry and threw him up against the back of the couch, leaning his back uncomfortably and threateningly over it.

"What the fuck do you want, Zabini? I am not in the mood,"

"Things not going so well with your  _dinner_ ," Blaise sneered, "Ah, I've figured out your secret Malfoy. It's the rest of the school that's too thick to get it,"

"So what does all this matter to you?"

Blaise shrugged absently and smiled with mockery up at him, "Malfoy, you should know me well enough, I am a Slytherin afte rall,"

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously, "If you know what I am, you're a damned fool who belongs in Hufflepuff. Ontop of that, you should know me well enough to understand I am a Malfoy, afterall, so it will not even contest me to tear your neck to pieces at any given moment," he threatened.

The smaller boy tensed and sucked in his breath, eyes widening with realization at just how powerful and dangerous Draco could be, especially when in a bad mood. "I-I-I think I..."

"Leave," Draco snapped, thrusting Blaise away from the couch and towards the Dormitory stairs. Blaise stumbled over his feet and barely regained himself, he looked about to say something, "I said  _leave_ ," Draco boomed.

Thankfully enough the Common Room was soon empty to his own devices. Draco gathered himself, feeling foolish for letting his emotions actually take ahold of him and for the neat facade to fall. Oh no, he didn't mind that Zabini knew everything now. That was of nil importance, for now that he was going to have what was to be his, the outcome of the Malfoy name was the least of his concerns.

For he had Harry on his mind, and a plan formulating so he could enrapture the Golden Boy as soon as possible. He did not know how many more nights he could patiently wait.

 


	8. Killers

_"Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves."_

_I will give up everything for you, for this feeling of reality you give me. I don't care what you take. There comes a point when they use up all your compassion, your empathy, and all you are left with is your pity. But what is stronger, is your hatred. That's why you can have everything, because it's only hate I have._

* * *

As morning dawned, Harry had yet to sleep, and with little need for it along with the rusted cogs turning in his head, he felt absolute as he arrived early to breakfast. He had not even bothered to wake Ron up or tell Hermione he was leaving, for his thoughts kept him occupied enough without their nagging company. In The Great Hall, not many had yet to manifest so he had the luxury of nibbling on his bread and water to himself.

_'It's not even that bad...it could've been worse. What if it turned out to be Nott, and how insufferable he is. Instead it's Malfoy. I can handle him,'_  Harry thought, and he definitely had no desire to lose the opportunity he was being given. He saw it as the only light in his paved future.

Neville came to the table and apparantly the Owl Post had already come back, much to Harry's lack of attention, for he was skimming The Daily Prophet. Harry observed him absently as the round boy sat not far from him, his face falling with every word he read. A look of agony spread across his features and Harry was intrigued enough to slide down the Gryffindor Table to his housemate's side.

"Nev, what is it?" Harry asked softly, probably sounding the sincerest since the beginning of the year. He didn't have to wait for the others answer, however as he peered over at the newspaper. In bold lettering read the headline; '12 MUGGLEBORNS SLAIN IN DEATH EATER ATTACKS'. "Did you know any of them?" Harry asked, trying to emit sympathy.

Neville shook his head but didn't speak. Harry knitted his brows together and returned to his seat, Hermione and Ron were talking animatedly as they entered the Great Hall, hand-in-hand. In both of their off-hands was a copy of the Daily Prophet, and they were both sorrowful as they joined from across the table from Harry.

Harry resumed picking at his toast, not looking up to greet them. It was best to avoid the conversation he knew they would drag him into about the murders, and frankly he didn't feel the need to waste his breath with such things. Events like these left him unaffected.

"Did you-" Hermione began softly, looking inquiringly over at Harry who grumbled, cutting her off.

"Yeah," he knew she was going to ask whether or not he had heard about the Muggle's.

"And?" she implored, leaning forward.

Harry raised his eyebrow, "And?"

"What are you going to do about it?" Hermione hissed haughtily.

"What am I going to do about it? What the bloody hell  _should_  I be doing about it? I didn't know those people, they mean nothing to me. Why should I go out of my way to do anything about it?" Harry snapped heatedly, reminding himself that even if his so-called friends attempted to burden him with things such as these, things he couldn't change from happening no matter how hard he tried and no mattered what he sacrificed, there was always Malfoy who saw him for what he was. Just a human, merely sixteen, and plagued with irrevertrible darkness.

Just then, Malfoy strode in the front doors. He still looked sickly pale, but in a sparkling light it was evervescant. His hair was tousled and fell neatly around his pointed face, and those silver eyes shot like daggers into Harry's. At first there was anger, but soon it turned to understanding and resolve.

"Harry, you're the only one that can do something! You have to speak to Professor Dumbledore...or maybe Snape, and they can help you figure out what to do!" Hermione retorted urgently, unshed tears rested 'neath her eyes.

" 'Mione's right, mate. You can't just sit here and expect everything to get better," Ron mumbled in agreeance.

Harry, still locking eyes with Draco who was standing unmoving in the Great Hall doorway, Blaise Zabini curiously looking on from the Slytherin Table. "No," Harry seethed, "But I can expect them to get worse and for me to still be unable to do anything about it," with that he rose from the table slowly, shakily. He was weak and it wasn't from lose of blood this time, but the anger and desperation to escape the responsibilities that had been set on him was dawning and grabbing ahold of everything he had left. Soon he felt he would be drowning it all, there wasn't much time left for his own salvation-which coincidentally stood just across the Hall.

Hermione and Ron were screaming something after him, something that didn't quite reach his ears as he kept his eyes locked with Draco in determination. Once he reached the entrance to the Great Hall, many pairs of eyes were set upon the two seeming rivals. Once he stood in front of Draco who raised his brow and crossed his arms, looking down at the brunette, Harry blushed lightly and broke eye contact to stare down at his feet.

"I-" he swallowed hard, his clenched fists were shaking at his side, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to think for one second that I did not want this. You have to know...you have to see it inside of me when you taste me...you're the only one who understands," Harry was whispering now, his voice strained.

Draco's eyes softened in a way Blaise had never seen before, even from where he sat at the Slytherin Table he could tell. He smirked and reached down to grab ahold of Harry's wrist securely, making those emerald eyes snap up to look at him in surprise from the sudden cold. Draco's other hand reached up push straggling raven strands from Harry's face.

"Come, I have something to give you," was all he said before leading Harry out of the silenced Hall, neither looking back at all those who stared in amazed confusion after them.

Once in the dungeons, Draco's hand slipped from Harry's wrist and intertwined their fingers. A simple affectionate touch from somebody so cold comforted Harry as he squeezed his partner's hand in return. Harry did not ask questions as to where they were headed or what he was being shown, he was only grateful to be rid of his other classmate's company and for Draco not being tempermental with him still for the night before. Draco likewise did not offer any commentary, comforts, or answers in which he knew Harry was searching for even if the queries didn't quite reach his lips. It was much nicer, for both of them, to be lapsed in deafening silence save from the methodical tap of their feet.

Having rarely been in these parts of the dungeon before did not make it hard for Harry to recognize where they were headed; he recalled his Second Year memory all too well as they came upon the Slytherin Common Room. It was dressed as it had been four years prior, still dreary and nearly empty. There were a few younger year students in the Common Room, each of them quieted by the older boys presence's and confused by Harry's. Whispers nipped at their heels but they paid no attention, they knew kids wouldn't dare meddle with either of them no matter the day or place.

Finally, they came upon the third last door on the staircase to the left of the Common Room. Draco entered, revealing his Dormitory to Harry. Once inside, their hands fell apart and Harry felt his nerves crawl up his neck. They were alone in Draco's empty dormitory, and Harry even with his wand still felt defenseless in this creature's presence.

"No need to worry, you know by now that you are much more than just food to me, Harry," Draco smirked as he led the way to the trunk at the end of his bed, cracking it open and kneeling down in front of it. He rummaged with his eyes before reaching his hands inside and moving things around, obviously searching for something.

Harry was red from the comment, but he still didn't make it much further into the room and he didn't allow himself to close the door either. He watched Draco's hunched figure, thinking to himself. _'Why is it that I prefer Malfoy's company over Ron's? Hermione's? Even before I knew who Malfoy was, I still preferred it...Because he's brutally honest. And he doesn't expect me to save the world, and he sees me for who I really a-_ '

"Potter, please," Draco was standing up now, holding something glinting in his hand as he faced Harry with a sullen face, "I wish you would remember more frequently that I can hear your thoughts, and some of them I do not find particularly essential to my own. Did you ever think for one moment that you preferred me over them just because I'm better than they are? Or because I'm naturally dangerous and you're only real competetor? Hmm?" he teased, letting himself have fun with it. He really could careless for reasons as to why Harry preferred to be there than back in the Great Hall with the Gryffindork's, because if he wasn't Draco would have done anything in his power to force him to be.

"Only real competetor?" Harry repeated softly, as if they were foreign words, "What about Voldemort? Is that just fun and games?" a small anger rose in him, but he dared not to explode in front of Draco. It felt nice, being in that much fear of him and admiration at the sametime.

Draco laughed icily, "Riddle is a raving madman with good luck and too much time on his hands, not really a true competetor for somebody like us,"

"Then why haven't  _you_  killed Riddle?" Harry retorted.

Draco narrowed his eyes, he didn't like his motifs being questioned like that. He took a few steps to close the distance between him and Harry, as he did he withdrew his wand and flicked it at the door, slamming it shut and prominently shutting it. His eyes were cool slits that bore down into Harry, his presence demanded authority, "Why waste my time on something that causes mere entertainment for the masses? Plus, I am quite certain you and I can think of many clever things to amuse ourselves with just because dear Tommy is still alive," his thin lips turn upwards into a sickening smirk, one that Harry couldn't help but find alluring.

As he turned his back to Harry, Draco put his wand away and fingered the trinket that lay in his hands. Harry breathed a little easier now that there was distance between them, "What was it you wanted to show me?" he asked more softly.

"Sit," Draco ordered quietly, he was already on his bed and left enough room beside himself for Harry who slowly walked over and sat down with tentative eagerness. "When I came across this the first time, I saw it as an achievement. How sick was I that the thought of murdering in cold blood was a meek game; it passed the time, buried my thoughts. It seems in the past few months, I have grown much older than I could have preconceived. The game has become pure survival to me, and the hunt, though still playful, I now fully comprehend the dire meaning of all my actions. Not to say I don`t enjoy them in the least, because I most certainly do," he added quickly through his explanation, his lips pushed back a small smile and Harry saw the side of one of his fangs glint. Obviously he didn't smile much around the other students, or else many more would be privvy to his secret.

"Game?" Harry softly pressed on.

Draco waved his freehand flippantly, "The act of killing, the thrill of hunting for the human or animal that has that perfect taste and consistancy to satisfy the hunger. Instead of looking at this as a trophy, as I once did, I now see it as memorabilia of life in general. The first human life I took wore this around his neck, and I simply could not leave such a beautiful thing on an otherwise useless body now could I?" he smirked with a hint in his liquid eyes, one that warned Harry of danger but at the sametime pulling him so far in that the sand was too thick for him to remove himself from.

"W-what's it like?" Harry choked out, he had these thoughts ever since he first came to Hogwarts when he found out about the War. He used to think to himself how it would feel if he was forced to kill another for his own survival. "Killing someone?"

"Empowering," Draco hissed fervently, "Although, sometimes I feel like I'm frying bugs," he shrugged honestly.

Harry felt himself grin at the thought. Yes, he knew it was horrific. Yes, he knew it was morally wrong and against everything the world saw as righteous. But it was  _funny_. At least that is how Draco got him to see it. 

"Ah, that is most certainly what I love to hear coming from your head," Draco seductively said.

Harry shivered, swallowing he gestured towards the trinket. "What is it?" he needed attentions drawn away from his thoughts, he felt too revealed to Draco and all too soon.

To answer his question, Draco opened his hand and held it out to Harry who took it. It was the gleaming silver profile of an intricately carved dragon, its mouth snarling open barring all venomous teeth, eyes fiery in character as its tail curled around beneath it. In the clasped, sharp talons of the beast sat a deep emerald stone. It looked like an expensive necklace pendant, Harry shamed himself for thinking he would've stolen it too. 

"It was the first human life I took as an immortal...and it always reminds me of what I was up until that. What kind of lowly, pathetic, slimy creature I was. Living behind some name as if I were a God. Well now I am one, and I attend to use that to its full potential," he clenched his fists on his lap, and Harry sat that terrifying glint again. He tightened his own hand around the pendant, out of sudden fear that he swallowed down again.

"How many lives have you taken?'' Harry asked, and only wondered afterwards if it were a question he should allow himself to ask.

"Dunno, why should I keep count? Fodder," he brushed it off once more, as if it were nothing. "Anyway, my point for showing you this Potter was t-"

"Harry, you know my name," Harry cut him off.

Draco smirked devilishly, glad Harry wasn't all shaking with fear that he could still interrupt him, " _Harry_ , I wanted to give it to you. The first human I make my own, from the first one whose life I took,"

Harry's eyes went wide, didn't this mean something important to Draco? Too important to be giving to him?  _'Is there more depth to this to him than there is to me? Or is there something I'm missing?'_

"Perhaps Harry when you are more like me, you will understand what it means to be in the situation I currently find myself at ease with," Draco sighed and stood up now, he had his back to Harry as he walked towards the small, mildewed windows in the dormitory. He leaned on their frame, it warmer from the winter heat than his own skin. His rooms overlooked the Hogwarts courtyards.

Harry automatically stood up and followed him, stopping only inches behind. He could feel both cool temperatures radiating from the window, and it scared him that he could decipher the colder one to belonging to Draco. It was a comforting consistency.

"Stupid me thought you might think that ring to be more of a living memorabilia," he joked monotonously, referring to the ring the blonde had been wearing since forever.

Draco instinctively looked down at the Malfoy signet ring on his left index finger, "This piece of junk always symbolized my mask, not my life. Two separate things, and I only have one of those left," he turned to face Harry again, emotion lost in his skin now he was visibly filled only with determination, "You unwisely left me hungry last night. And angry. I don't like being either," his tone altered completely, deepening and darkening with each word.

The moods sudden change startled him, "I-"

"No excuses, Harry. I want what's mine," he gutturally growled now, his line of sight dropping from Harry's eyes down to his lips, than that throbbing vein in his neck. It pulsated there, thick and ready to burst underneath the will of his teeth.

"What's y-yours?" Harry stumbled dumbly, though he was not stupid. He just allowed his fear to be the largest part of him then, it made it all the more pleasurable. Draco saw the game in him and smirked evilly. The brunette took a step back towards the door, slowly taking a few more as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. This surprised Draco, though he stilled advanced on him slowly, watching him. With his wand, Harry brought the tip to his wrist and looked Draco dead in the eye as he said, " _Incidere_ ," in a strong, husky voice. Where his wand hit his skin, a thin cut ran its way across his wrist and blood trickled through it.

Draco's thoughts shut down almost immediately. Usually he could hold his own in the presence of any other blood but Harry's. Something in it was different from all the others, something so bitter sweet it was tantalizing and overwhelming. "Potter-"

"Wait. Tell me that you won't kill anybody else," Harry said hurriedly, before he was closed in and defenceless.

Draco cackled wickedly, advancing till Harry's back was against the locked door, "Foolish. You and I both were made for killing. It's our purpose," he growled, he licked his silken lips now and his eyes flashed again. His hands rested now on either side of Harry's waist, leaning heavily on the door so that his chest pressed up against Harry's rising and falling one. He smirked almost manically when Harry's erection pressed into his thigh, Draco pressed harder back.

Harry's wand was shaking as he brought the tip to that throbbing vein on his neck. He muttered the same curse, swallowed as he saw Draco's eyes widen. "Won't kill without me being there," he said.

It was something that surprised Draco, "Never. That's a promise, Harry," he hissed, then closed his mouth in on the cut in his throat, the blood dripping down Harry's neck. Draco's eager tongue lapsed against the wound, his teeth sunk in new holes and the ecstasy rushed through him like an open flowing river. It was not only him that felt pleasure, as Harry buckled at the knees and leaned all his weight dependantly on the door, Draco pressing into him as he drained him, sucking hard. A moan escaped his lips where he bit down, attempting to suppress himself. He was on the verge of sheer lucidity when Draco suddenly stopped, cursing he drew away, wiping his mouth.

"Cover up," he growled, "Cover the wounds," he demanded.

Harry unsteadily pushed off the door and mustered all his strength to pull his cloak around him in confusion. "What is it?" he asked.

Draco clasped his hands together in front of them, his eyes sharp as he strode over towards the only desk in the room, Harry automatically following though weakly. "Sit," Draco pushed him down in the chair and fumbled with a few pieces of parchment and a dry quill that sat on the edge of the table. Harry sat, breathing more evenly as he did.

"Somebody just had to ruin all the fun," he grumbled.

Harry's eyes went wide as a voice drifted from the other side of the room, the door clicked unlocked and then open. "Malfoy, why did...Potter?"

Harry's world went black.

 


	9. Power

_"They had forgotten the first lesson, that we are to be powerful, beautiful and without regret,"_

_You have such an inexplainable hold on me. It mounts each day, more affection and more obligation I feel to you. There is not yet one reason I could find myself turning away, looking far from the darkness we have created. It is ours, and it will be ours together. Those who stand before us will learn to fall, because I am undeniably yours for whatever it is you wish of me. Faint feelings of a reverent past find me sometimes when I am weak, forgive me for my falters they mean not a thing. The only importance is that I belong to you._

* * *

The room was ill with thick silence.

Draco paced, cursing beneath his breath. He only stopped as he heard a groan coming from the bed, he whipped around and came to Harry's feeble side at once. Peering over him, the brunette slowly stirred from his sleep. "Malfoy?" he called softly, his vision blurred as his glasses had been taken off by somebody.

Draco handed him the round spectacles, and Harry then first got sight of the blonde's sour face. "What happened?" he asked, and then he felt the pain thrust from his neck, he groaned and reached a hand up automatically. Draco caught it tight within his grasp, stopping Harry as he looked at him seriously.

"Don't touch it, Potter, it'll become infected. Then what good is your blood going to be to me?" he snapped, throwing the brunette's hand back down on the bed before standing up, turning his back to him. Anger was fuming off of him, none like before that Harry had ever witnessed.

"What happened?" Harry repeated, this time a little louder.

"Damn Parkinson that bitch," he growled, "She thinks she can just walk into peoples private rooms whenever she finds it suits her?" Draco turned to face him now, a sinister look in his eyes, "From loss of blood, and surprise, I guess that's why you fainted. Didn't know the Golden Boy was so weak hearted," he teased maliciously.

"Hey! Fuck you, Malfoy!" Harry yelled in return, taking it in offence as he swung his legs off the side of the bed, preparing to stand up. Halfway onto his feet, all the blood rushed to his head and his vision became red, he groaned and fell backwards onto it. When he opened his eyes again, Draco was kneeling before him with a concerned look.

"You've lost a lot of blood, just rest," Draco whispered, his hand ghosting across Harry's paled cheek. Harry opened his mouth and closed it, no sound coming to his lips. Malfoy being concerned for his well-being really threw him off.

"What did you tell Parkinson?" Harry asked, blushing and turning his head to the side.

"Told her to piss off! She will expect answers, not that she will receive any," he grumbled, crossing his arms and sitting on the side of the bed next to Harry.

"What are we going to do?" Harry shook his head, sombrely thinking of the situations he knew were to come. He public ly joined Draco Malfoy in front of the entire school, abandoning his friends and house mate's for a Slytherin snake. A vampire, who craved only his blood and the dark thoughts that lie burrowed in his head. He felt more at ease with Draco, unafraid to be himself and say what he was thinking, but did he really fully understand just where he was being taken? 

"You are going to rest a little while longer, and I will be brewing Potions. I only have a sufficient amount for one afflicted person, I need to widen my supplies for two, now," Draco explained, the Potions that made it possible to keep his Malfoy façade in place and survive everyday.

"Oh, I'm really not tired. Could I help you?" Harry asked, he stood up slowly much to Draco's disapprove and found his balance on his feet. The blood rushed to his head but he clamped his eyes shut until the sensation went away.

"Come then, Severus allows me to use his rooms whenever I wish it," Draco stood up and started towards the door before turning around and pursing his lips at Harry. He took out his wand and waved it in the brunette's direction, who felt a warming sensation before it quickly disappeared. "A Glamour," Draco explained quickly before leading the way out the door.

Harry followed one step behind the blonde, his head throbbing slightly as they walked down a few corridors till they reached one of Snape's Potion classrooms. Draco peered inside, and being there nobody in it he entered. "Does Snape know?" Harry asked curiously, he knew the two had been close especially during Draco's mortal life.

"All the Professor's do, Dumbledore was adamant in their knowledge of such things," Draco grumbled, "Pomfrey even has Potions for me, but she never gives me the ones I really want," he explained, beginning to mindlessly set up the cauldron at the front of the room, the first desk on the left. "Newt eyes, Wormwort, Re'em Blood, and crushed Pheonix feathers," he listed off, Harry stood dumbly in front of the desk, cocking his head. "Get them Potter, please," he added, nudging his head towards the ingredients cabinet.

Harry nodded and strode over to it, getting the vials and containers of all the ingredients Draco whispered. The last he grabbed was the Pheonix feathers, he looked at them oddly. They were crushed finely, yellow and orange dust only a millimetre thick in a small vial. As he brought them over and set them on the table, he kept the Pheonix feathers, staring amusedly at them. "These must be rare," he commented.

Draco didn't even have to look up from his work, he was already sifting through the ingredients and readying the blade and boiling the cauldron to the perfect temperature. "Mhm, Dumbledore provides them from Fawkes, only a small amount is necessary though it is the main ingredient in all the Potions I need," he explained, taking them from Harry's hand now and laying it on the table beside the others.

"I will prepare the ingredients, you stir when and how I tell you to," Draco ordered, Harry nodded and got into the seat next to him, leaning on his elbow.

"What does this Potion do?" Harry quipped, he had no idea what they were brewing but obviously Draco had brewed it enough to do so without instructions.

"This is the most important Potion to my survival, Harry. What will become your survival. It suppresses the desire for feeding, which will come to you every night in a deep hunger and every cell in your being strives for it. But this Potion makes one more rational, able to hold it off," he explained seriously, he was crushing the Newt eyes with one end of the blade.

Harry took a deep breath, would he have to take this Potions everyday? Was that going to be worth it? Draco turned to him with a heated look on his face, "Yes," he hissed, "It is worth it. To be yourself and do what you want out of other clutches, I have no doubt that you will be very pleased with the outcome. The power, overall. The power to crush Voldemort beneath your teeth with ease, and to dismiss Dumbledore,"

"Power?" Harry repeated softly, "Over everyone?" it did have a ring to it, and it appealed to him. He knew it was wrong, but he could tell by the sound of it on his own lips that it was what he wanted. He wanted to be strong like Draco, and as cunning as him. Then nobody would be able to use him, and he could begin to use them in return.

Draco laughed coldly, "Except me. I will be your Maker, and you will have to obey me," he resumed with the Newt eyes.

"Have to?"

"You will feel an overwhelming desire to do so," Draco put the Newt eyes in and moved to the vial of Re'em Blood, he measured it and poured it in and grabbed the Wormwort.

Harry was ordered to stir counter clockwise, as he did he thought about how much he didn't mind listening to Draco. He knew he wouldn't suppress him, like Hermione and Ron, that even if he did order him around he would be delighted to obey. It would give him a great sense of relief. A thought came to his head that hadn't before, "Draco, who is your Maker?"

A grim look crossed the blonde's face, "He is dead, so the mention of him does not matter,"

"Can you tell me...how it happened?" Harry reached out his hand and touched Draco's wrist, the other immediately reacted, pulling his hand vastly away and back to his work, he masked his emotions.

"Do not ask questions in matters that do not concern you," he said coldly.

Harry was offended. He was fully Draco's, having given himself to him in the Great Hall. He allowed him to feed on him, and was going to turn into a creature for him, to be with him and to feel the power Draco could give him. Harry was giving him a sort of forever, and Draco was still so cold to him and wouldn't ever tell him things about himself. It was unnerving and frustrating.

Draco sensed his change in mood, he stopped what he was doing and turned to Harry who was, for the first time, glaring at him. "Harry," he said softly, reaching over and touching his cheek gently.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," he growled, "This isn't fair. You see into my head whenever you want to, you know what I'm thinking, feeling, going to do, and you! Urgh, you won't even tell me a god damned thing! This isn't going to work if this is going to be one-sided, I'm not going to let you  _use_  me," he spat, shoving Draco's hand away from him and standing up abruptly. Festering emotions he had long since ignored since this new Draco came into his life were now brimming to the edge, boiling over. 

Draco was taken aback but kept cool, "Harry dear, there are some things that are better left unsaid and unknown,"

"No Draco, I'm done with this until you can tell me more," Harry hissed and left for the door. He ignored Draco calling to him, fuming as he hurried through the corridor with his fists clenched.

He was more than annoyed this time. What point was there to be in this? He knew he was falling for Draco, that he wanted a different life and would do anything for it. But he wanted Draco to be on par with him, wanted him to share things with him. He wouldn't be able to handle a life where he was the only one being open.

It was late now, just a little after curfew. Harry ignored all the passerby's that stared at him, whispering beneath their breaths maliciously about the strange scene they had seen at meal. "Harry, Harry!" Hermione's voice called somewhere between the Fifth and Sixth Floor.

Harry turned around gloomily, a dark foreboding in his eyes as he greeted his two friends, hand-in-hand as always. He despised them for their relationship, admittedly. "What is it?" he snapped.

"I-"

"Is Malfoy the one whose been giving you all those marks? Look 'Mione, there's another bloody one!" Ron cursed, pointed his finger dejectedly at the wound on Harry's neck, he covered it out of habit and scowled.

Hermione's face softened with worry, "Harry, you can't let him keep doing this to you. It isn't healthy. I read that if you are the...food...for the Immortals, eventually you will die from their poison. Either that or you become one of them, I know you don't want either," she explained gently. Ron however, seemed flustered at her side but said nothing, obviously furious of Harry's association with Malfoy.

"Life isn't a damned book, Hermione. You would do well to learn that," Harry spat venomously as he turned to stride away from them. Gryffindor Tower was obviously out of the question, there was no way he could possibly get peace there. He needed to be away from them, the people who prodded and didn't understand. The ones that pushed him so faraway to protect themselves that now he was out of arm's reach; lost in a truanted wind that has blown him into Draco's grasps. He felt those cold hands as if they were wringing around his heart possesively that moment, those harsh teeth owning every piece of him. Harry shivered as he strode away.

"Come, Ronald!" Hermione hissed, following quickly after Harry, attempting to keep up pace with him as he descended back down the stairs he had come. He wanted air, to feel its cool on his cheek-the closest that could match Draco's. The Astronomy Tower, his solitary sanity.

"You really have to listen to us Harry. You are playing with fire here, and I'm not too sure if you're helping to build it up or water it down," Hermione was pleading now, she had that sadened look in her round, brown eyes. Harry hardly regarded her on his side and continued walking, he could follow him and talk if they liked, so long as he was where he needed to be.

"Malfoy's a rotten snake, even you know that. Now you're becoming just as rotten as him," Ron accused, his tone was sour and coarse. He was unlike Hermione and held the smallest bits of compassion for Harry now.

Harry shrugged, "So don't bloody follow me around if you think I'm so rotten," he suggested.

Hermione crossed her arms now, "Harry you're our only hope against Voldemort..."

Harry stopped walking at the mention of his name, he remembered Draco snidely commenting about Voldemort-like he was a little child. He turned scathingly to Hermione, bearing down over her ominously, "That  _thing_  is the scum under my shoe, there's no reason for me to waste my time with such things," he began walking again, fuming once again.

"But there is a reason to! If you waste your time with him, you can kill him, and he won't kill any innocent people any more!" Hermione shouted, they were at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower now and Harry led the way up the stairs.

"You're Harry Potter, you're supposed to be our Hero," Ron mumbled monotonously.

As Harry reached the landing, he turned to his two late-friends. "I'm sorry to disappoint your wet dreams, Weasley, but I'm not your Hero," he turned out to the ledge, revealing the same unchanging landscape of the Grounds he admired. He may not enjoy the company of the inhabitants of Hogwarts any longer, but it was worth the scenery.

"It's illegal, too. I am aware the other Professor's have knowledge of Malfoy's...state. But if they knew what he was doing to you,  _feeding_  on you, they would send him to Azkaban,"

"It's where the bugger belongs," Ron commented, he was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"I let him. I like it. I like  _him_ ," Harry paused, looking down at his chest as he reached underneath his shirt to retrieve the pendant he had been given earlier that day. Ron eyed it suspiciously, Hermione as well. "He understands me like nobody else does," he finished softly, with a warm tone. It surprised the two Gryffindor's who hadn't heard him sound like that in a long while, it took them aback.

"Yes, and you me, Harry," Draco's voice came from the doorway, it was silken smooth. "I came looking for you, and unfortunately have found you with ill company," he said dryly, striding into the room with exburant air. He came to stand in front of Harry, with his strong hand on his hip he pressed him back against the ledge of the Tower. "And you, ah you. You left me no time to explain,"

"Just because you understand me doesn't mean I forgive you. I still want to know who your Maker was," Harry snapped, though he didn't have the emotion in it this time.

Draco smirked, cocking his head sideways as he closed the distance between their bodies, pressing them up against one another. "Persistent, and very cute," he said, causing Harry to blush.

"Urgh, I think I'm going to be sick," Ron muttered, turning his head away. Hermione was transfixed, having never seen Draco act like this. It was wrong, but what could she do to stop it?

"I will tell you those, everything you wish to know, when you will be able to hear it properly. I simply didn't want to overload you," Draco lifted his hand to brush Harry's fringe off his forehead, leaning down he brought his cold lips to his neck and kissed like a ghost. Then he slowly opened his mouth and forked his teeth across the skin.

"You have left me unsatisfied, Potter. And your wound is not healed properly, do you not remember what I said about tainted blood? Do I really deserve that?" Draco's voice was stronger now, demanding. Harry heard the growl of lust beneath it, and the impatience layered.

"What good is tainted blood to you? I'm sorry Draco, I'll wait till you're ready to tell me," Harry said in defeat, wrapping his own arms loosely around Draco's waist.

"All is forgiven, so long as you never do that to me again. Right Potter?" Draco pushed into him and bent his teeth to his neck, scraping them harder into skin. Harry shivered, his erection poking into the blonde's thigh who chuckled triumphantly.

"Right," his voice was shaking, he couldn't control himself and he didn't care.

"Come," Draco ordered, linking his arm underneath Harry's shoulders and beginning to walk him down the Astronomy Tower. Harry didn't even regard Ron and Hermione's astonished faces as they passed them, he was too occupied gazing adoringly up at Draco, tangled in his feelings.

Hermione was having the same reaction, her eyes followed with a heavy jaw Draco until he vanished from sight. She found herself sighing, inexplicably. Ron was giving her a strange, horrified expression. "Malfoy's a lot more powerful than we thought, I think. Look how easily he dogs you two!" Ron accused, but he was being much more serious than vengeful now, "We have to help Harry, this isn't his fault,"

Hermione breathlessly nodded, "We have to talk to Dumbledore. Now," she concluded, taking Ron's hand as they took off down the stairs towards their Headmaster's office.

 


	10. Dangerous Circumstances

_"When love is reached through suffering ... it has a power it can never gain through innocence."_

_I will be there. Their testimonials which bring upon us our trials will soon lose meaning; as everything else has save ourselves and our darkness. The time is coming nearer, for you to give yourself fully into me, bleed every last piece of your essence through my eager lips. Waiting is becoming much more strenuous and I long for it to be over, I am growing weary of human games and yearn for your blood in a fixed immortality._

* * *

"Sir, he's not well at all. Professor McGonagall, you've noticed too, haven't you?" Hermione urged her Headmaster to see the blatantly obvious, didn't Professor Dumbledore always know what was happening, especially within the walls of his own school?

The Head of Gryffindor House pursed her lips, with crossed arms she slowly nodded, her eyes were narrowed slits, "I have. The boy is simply unapproachable these days,"

"I would recommend not approaching him," Dumbledore was quick to answer, his tone wasn't as light as Hermione and Ron were used to hearing and they frowned deeply at their superior, "Mr Potter has many a great deal of things to concern himself with. He is doing exceedingly well in his extracurricular studies with myself, Professor Snape as well as Professor Lupin, he is still attending and understands their necessities to play his part against the Dark Lord. We have, of course, noticed his decline of...animation...yet, that is all to be expected," he explained to the worrisome couple, gripping hands as they sat in their parallel seats across from him.

Hermione frowned, she was more concerned than Ron was peeved, he was tapping his right foot anxiously on the ground, gritting his teeth during the entire conversation. "Hasn't Snape seen anything during Leglimancy?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, his hands folded ontop of his large oak desk and he sighed, "Even if he did that information is not his to share. Severus, however, ensures me Harry's mental defences are stronger than they have ever been and he has not been able to successfully cast Leglimancy on him in over a month," both of the student's faces fell even more at this.

"Ms Granger and Mr Weasley, if you have nothing further to discuss with Professor Dumbledore I believe he has a studious amount of-"

"We know Malfoy's a vampire," Ron blurted out, they couldn't just leave it at 'Oh, Harry's just depressed because he's got so many responsibilities...' and shrug it off. It was more than that, so much more. His very life was at risk and if anything were to happen to it, what would become of the Dark Lord? What would become of the Wizarding World as they knew it?

Professor McGonagall's mouth opened for a moment before she clamped it shut, Dumbledore was merely raising a brow at his students. "I can assure you that your safety is not in jeopardy. Mr Malfoy is receiving all of the proper Potions as brewed by Professor Snape and Slughorn themselves, rendering him of no threat to those around him," he stated, Minerva nodding in sullen agreement beside him.

"But Harry, sir," Hermione said pointedly, "If he's taking all his Potions and doesn't need to feed or isn't any threat...how come he's feeding off of Harry?"

"Ms Granger! Those are heavy accusations to make!" Professor McGonagall screeched, the muscles on her face tightening even more as they were before. Hermione blushed and looked aside, her boyfriend held her hand tighter.

"Minerva, please," Dumbledore gestured towards the door to his office, "Be quick to fetch Mr Potter, these are matters that cannot be taken lightly,"

As they waited for Professor McGonagall to return with the brooding brunette, Ron and Hermione explained Harry's change of attitude, appearance and personality over the past few weeks. His lack of appetite, distaste for sunlight, the marks the found on his neck...both Ron and Hermione were astute to leave out the particular interaction they had just had with Harry and Malfoy a mere hour prior. When Professor McGonagall returned to the large, oval office with Harry not far behind her, he was even paler than the last time they had laid eyes upon him. He was wearing such strong Glamour's Hermione could sense them the moment he stepped into the room. His hear fell just above his heavy, sunken eyes that were quick to glare at Ron and Hermione before avoiding them entirely.

"Mr Potter, you are brought here-"

"I know why I'm here," Harry darkly mumbled, cutting off his Headmaster whom raised his brow in surprise at the defiance of his interruption. His emerald eyes were cast downward, they seemed foggier than usual, his arms were crossed and he looked about to sway on his feet.

"Please, sit," Dumbledore offered him one of the free seats by his desk, Harry merely shook his head. "Your friends are concerned, Mr Potter. They have brought to our attention that they believe a particular classmate is imposing himself upon you. We are simply worried with your well-being and wish only the best for you so-"

"Bullshit," Harry muttered between his clenched jaw. Hermione gasped, she had never heard anybody talk to their Headmaster that way before, even Professor McGonagall was astounded.

"Mr Potter, 10 points from Gryffindor for-" Harry didn't let McGonagall finish her sentence, he turned to her with an icy glare so cold it cut her words in half.

"You don't wish the best for me. You just hope I can make it till you have the opportunity to use me to murder  _him_. That's all they see, too," he accusingly jabbed his finger in his late friend's direction, "They see me as something I'm not but something they, like you, are trying to build me into. If you cared about me at all you'd see that this  _is_ best for me, I've never been this honest in my entire life," everybody could feel the anger rolling off each word. Every day brought a new level of detest to his hatred towards his old friends and most especially his Headmaster.

"Who gives a shit about honesty, Harry?" Ron swore, he was standing now, equally as upset as Harry was, his fists balled and turning white at the knuckles as he stood before his housemate. "You're letting a  _vampire_  feed on you. Not just any vampire but  _Malfoy_. He's just going to kill you, Harry, that's what they do...they kill!" he yelled at his face, as if raising his voice would get the point across stronger.

Harry scowled deeply at him,  _'Who does Ron think he is? He doesn't know Draco like I do. How didn't I see sooner just how judgemental these two are?'_

"If you're implying that I can't take care of myself, you're fucking wrong. I've taken care of me for the past sixteen years and I've been the one keeping myself alive, I think I can bloody manage-" Harry stiffened, shivers racked down his spine, jolting out nervous electricity to every cell of his body. He knew that presence, his blood knew that presence that slowly creaked open the door to the Headmaster's office.

"You would think," Draco began to drawl, he was leaning on the door frame, having pushed the door ajar, and seemed to be nonchalantly picking at his nails, "Being Gryffindor's and all, none of you would find it very becoming to speak ill of a person without them being in their company, I thought I could bring a...light, shall we say, to the situation," he smirked devilishly up at his classmates now, all three of them, as he choose his words carefully.

Hermione was frowning at him, Ron scowling in such a rage he looked about to explode. Harry, however, was relieved at his presence as he bit his lip, his eyes raking over Draco's stiff and upright form. "How the bloody hell did you know we were talking about you?" Ron swore, turning his attentions away from Harry which the brunette was grateful for.

Draco raised an artful eyebrow, pushing off of the door frame and sauntering into the room and slowly coming towards Harry, "He may be a master at Occulmency and keeping his thoughts from Snape, however, he can never keep them from me. Isn't that right,  _Harry_?" he breathed his name into his ear, he was behind him now, not touching him but doing anything but. Ron was becoming more irritated by the second, especially at seeing Harry's reaction to his presence, he was standing straighter than before, more alert and tense yet somehow at the same time less ill looking.

"Mr Malfoy, please," Dumbledore cut in gently, "Especially in light of our conversation this such behaviour is not appropriate,"

Draco took a step back from Harry and sneered at his Headmaster, he took the remaining seat that Harry had earlier been offered and with a simple quick glance he had told Harry to move to him, Harry obliged as he always did. The entire room, save Dumbledore, was in awe as to how obedient Harry was being who stood at Draco's side, looking down at his shoes and stealing sidelong glances, looking much like a trained puppy dog.

"Given what is being displayed, Mr Malfoy, you should be well aware of how dangerous the accusations being made against you are," Dumbledore began to explain and before Draco could cut in he continued, causing the blonde to close his mouth with a snarl, "When you returned to Hogwarts it was under agreement you were not to feed off of any living thing-" 

" _Unwilling_  living thing," Draco added pointedly.

"These matters call for a great delicacy. I would implore for you to be questioned under Veritaserum to ensure Mr Potter's and other's safety, though I understand its ineffectiveness upon you. Which is why I must turn to Mr Potter," Dumbledore turned to Harry who looked slowly up at him, he was glowering as he knew where this was headed and he didn't like it. "In the presence of your obliging Head of House and myself, I would like to ask only a few necessary questions, Harry. The answers of which will remain confidential. I would not ask this otherwise but in matters as such it is what must be done if we are to avoid involving the Ministry,"

Reluctantly, Harry slowly nodded in agreement. Draco slowly rose from his seat, his cold, strong fingers found a grip around Harry's wrist and held it tightly, his silver eyes rimmed with crimson narrowed at his Headmaster, "I will be staying, too," he demanded.

Dumbledore raised a brow, especially at the dominant contact Draco was having with Harry who seemed to lean into the touch yet shiver against it all at once. "I am afraid Veritaserum is not a guaranteed art. Your direct influence can make the questioning be considered faulty in some ways," he explained, his eyes never once leaving the two boys before him as he himself contemplated the odd and powerful relationship he could see so plainly written in their faces.

Draco shared a look with Harry and then he did something that surprised both Hermione and Ron, he leaned in and whispered something to him inaudibly which made him blush and nod, before giving him a genuine and encouraging smile. The three students excluding Harry were excused from the office and sent down the hall, silencing charms were placed on the door so eavesdropping was rendered impossible. Though Draco could eavesdrop mentally whenever he wished it, he found the thought of teasing the two lowly Gryffindor's he had to share company with for the time being much more appealing.

"You're done for now, Malfoy," Ron spat at him once McGonagall disappeared into the Headmaster's Office, "Harry's gonna tell them everything and you'll be sent to Azkaban for sure!" he hissed venomously.

Finding this rather amusing, Draco grinned and sauntered towards the two of them, coming a mere inch away from Ron's face which he breathed his cold air down onto. "You talk like you know him. It is quite sad, really. It took me two months to understand him more than you could in six years, Weasley," he smirked, reaching out a finger to prod into the center of Ron's chest, the redhead was now understanding the compromising position he was in, his heart just beneath the cold touch of a vampire with a devilish grin. "It would do you good to remember to keep your accusations away from  _my_  Harry,"

Swallowing, Ron took his Gryffindor courage to speak again though Draco's finger still lay on him emanating a fear swelling from the touch all over his skin, "Your Harry? He's a person not an object, Malfoy,"

"He's  _mine_  and that is all that should concern you, Weasel," Draco hissed, his tone coarse and demanded there be no argument in the matter. Ron seemed to get the idea and slowly, reluctantly, clamped his mouth shut as he glared at the evanescence blonde before him. Draco finally lifted his finger from the redhead and turned towards the bushy-haired girl who had remained for the most part silent, her brows furrowed in thought and a tint of pink on her cheeks.

_'...one moment he was so angry and the next Malfoy comes in and he just shuts right up. Doesn't speak a word, just obeys what Malfoy tells him to do and is content. That can't be right, he must be abusing him...'_

"Mudblood," Draco spat, both Gryffindor's eyes went wide, "Your thoughts are not only ill conceived but entirely wrong in themselves. Please, try to keep thinking down to a minimum from now on,"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed again, she narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin before she actually found herself slowly nodding in agreeance. Draco smirked triumphantly. It was just too easy to get people to do what he wished them to these days, even without using his charms or even really trying to, it was all too simple.

It was not long before Harry was released from the office, Professor McGonagall regarded Draco with a curt nod, excusing him, before calling both Hermione and Ron back into the office. Harry was free to leave, thankfully, and as his house mates were being escorted back into the office he turned to Draco with a sheepish, weary look. "I am sorry for that, Draco," he immediately apologized, he knew he was still angry about what had happened earlier regarding Harry's demanding of information about his previous Master, he didn't want to upset him even further.

"The only thing you need to be sorry for, dear, is that I cannot feed off of you tonight again..." his sigh trailed off though he couldn't help smirk at Harry's obvious frown, "Your blood is tainted. Veritaserum tastes like vinegar and masks most other tastes and smells, it is too wretched and dirty for me to drink. Unless, of course, you think I deserve dirty blood, hrm?" Draco's inflection seriously changed, he closed the distance between his own and Harry's body, pressing his hard frame up against his and looking down at him. Harry was quick to shake his head.

"Of course not, never. But, er," Harry cast his eyes timidly away from the blonde, this was unfamiliar territory for him still and all he yearned was to feel hopeless again in the strong arms of Draco, "Uhm, what can we do?"

Draco raised a brow, he could read Harry's thoughts and he couldn't say how pleased he was to hear how they were all consumed with him, enrapturing him and taking in his essence, draining him. He damned Weasley and Granger for thwarting his feed for the evening, especially with such desperate thoughts Harry was reaching out to him with. He gripped the brunette strongly on either sides of his triceps, so hard it was bruising and Harry winced at the pressure, "Haven't you ever heard of snogging, Harry?"

Pale, pink lips met dry eager ones, crashing together desperately. Harry felt absolutely consumed in Draco's cold touch, the feeling of his glass-like fingernails scraping down the skin of his arms, he was shivering all over and yearning for more. Then he felt the quick release of fangs, it stung against his tongue nearly breaking the fleshy muscle, Harry jumped in surprise. Draco smiled into the feeling of Harry's tongue exploring his fangs, he felt elated at the moan his ministrations were causing to emerge from Harry's throat.

"Un-fucking-believable," Ron's voice was heard upon the sight, quickly shielding his eyes from it. Harry tempted to spring apart from Draco but he was held firmly close to him, the blonde growled at the break of their kiss and looked coolly down at Harry.

"Come. I want to have you tonight," Draco stated, though to Ron and Hermione it sounded like an order. Harry froze for a moment, not knowing exactly what Draco meant by that but then realizing that he didn't really care what he meant by that. He allowed himself to be led away, ignoring the incredulous and disgusted looks that followed them until they left sight around the bend of the corridor.

_'Soon, Harry, soon. I will take your body tonight, your blood another eve and your soul soon after,'_


	11. Unworthy

_"None of us really changes over time. We only become more fully what we are."_

_I'm sickened by myself, by the thoughts I can't control any longer. They're becoming difficult to surpress and I no longer want to. I no longer want to avoid what makes me feel good, what I desire. You're paving a clear path for me and all I want is to follow it, away from them, and into my own death._

* * *

The school corridors smelt of burning wax; thousands of candles a lit more than the usual, lighting the way on a special Eve towards the Great Hall. Tables were pushed aside to either ends, lined with treats, candies, pumpkin fizzie's and pumpkin juice. The Three Broomsticks even had conjured up bowls of Butterbeer to be distributed to the excited mass of students, everybody ablaze with a jolt of Hallow's Eve spirit. The House Ghosts and other late residential joined the students in their celebrations, the music strumming odd tunes some danced to or others just tapped their feet whilst conversing, enjoying the free time from their studies.

The older years were found near the back of the hall, most of them just picking at the candies and talking animatedly with one another. Harry's eyes narrowed, he glared at them. It seemed almost every morning they read the Daily Prophet headings of more deaths and weariness on the growing War, yet they had the audacity to consume themselves in such lowly celebrations? Harry scoffed. The hatred in him grew every moment he was around these hypocritical school mates of his, he gritted his teeth in annoyance, these were the people he was meant to give his life up for? These were those he was meant to sacrifice for? His resolve was solidified; they didn't deserve it and he didn't want to give them any part of himself any more, he was reserved for Draco and his own ministrations.

Draco, that blonde vagrant, he had him in the palm of his hand just where Harry wanted to be. He had fully given himself to him, silently vowed his body and his blood, he knew he couldn't hide from him, his mind was open just as much as he emotions lay bare for the creature to see and manipulate. Harry enjoyed it, each more everyday he was captivated by him and how he treated him. Draco allowed his thoughts to be verbalized and he assured him they had reason and rhyme.

"Potter, snap out of it," came a smirking call from behind him, a hand slapped him hard on the back. Harry nearly choked from it, he turned around to glare at one of his housemates, Dean, who was grinning like a madman, he seemed drunk.

"Yeah, mate, I know you're an uptight bugger most of the time and all but it's Halloween!" Seamus chimed in, they came round to face Harry both with stupid, goofy smiles and their arms wrapped around each other, using the other as support. Harry found this odd, they really did seem quite inebriated.

Harry didn't speak, he merely watched the two, in a sort of daze. He didn't know why he had even bothered coming to the crowded hall for the Halloween Ball, there wasn't anybody there he wished to speak with, Draco was brewing his necessary Potion's - why wasn't he there assistnig him? He would be needing to take some of them soon, he might as well learn how to brew them himself as well. Dean and Seamus rarely approached Harry, they avoided him like everybody else, he had a tendency to snap and berate which seemed to increase as the days grew on.

"Fine, but you're gonna miss out on all the fun..." Dean trailed off, raising a goblet that was sloshing around pumpkin juice as him and Seamus swayed.

"...we've got Firewhiskey and Dungbombs, mate. Gonna plant them all around the Hufflepuff dormitories..." Seamus was half-whispering now.

Whatever possessed them to want Harry to join was beyond him, but their intentions peeked his interest. That was something he could find himself nearly enjoying; mischevious activities and illegal alcohol somehow smuggled into the school. Harry even found himself sporting a small grin, "Alright, I s'pose," he shrugged, his hands in his trousers. It was the most enthusiastic his house mates had seen him in awhile. Seamus responded by shoving his goblet into Harry's hand with a wink, the brunette took it and out of the corner of his eye he spotted Hermione and Ron, glowering in his direction but not coming any nearer, "Anything's better than this," he mumbled, throwing his head back and emptying the contents of his glass.

"Woah, mate! You'll be feeling that one in the morning!" Seamus smirked largely, throwing his arm now around Harry's shoulders who immediately felt the fizzing drink take its effect on his motor skills.

The boys headed together out into the corridor, it turned out Dean had got an older Wizard to buy them multiple flasks of Firewhiskey at the Hog's Head a few weeks prior which he was saving for Halloween, just as he was his Dungbombs and numerous other prankster devices that would leave Peeves' proud. Harry was as content as he had been in a long while asides from when he was enraptured with Draco. He only briefly paused to question why and it was because Seamus and Dean just wanted to have a good time at the expense of others. It was only for a passing moment that Harry was disgusted with himself in this realization; that others misfortune made him oddly glad, he shook it off with a grin as he continued on his way, in between two merrily drunken Gryffindor's.

When a flask of Firewhiskey was drank dry, Harry found himself no longer faking his chuckles and smiles. Strange, how inebriation could make you forget to hate yourself. Their whispered yet maniacal laughter echoed in the empty corridors outside of the portrait holes that did not belong to their Houses; they went from one to the other, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw not far apart, planting Dungbombs and lying in wait for the next unsuspecting student. Once their fun was had, Seamus suggested the dungeons to continue their prank on the other students, the thought made Harry freeze suddenly and even in his drunken stupor his blood ran cold and his eyes wide. He shook his head in disagreeance but it was too late, somehow he hadn't been paying enough attention, his feet were already being led there, to the dungeons just outside of the Slytherin portrait hole.

"C'mon Harry, your honours this time, mate!" Dean threw him a Dungbomb which Harry felt land in his hand, leave it to his Seeker's catch to stay just as agile even with the influence of Firewhiskey.

His thumb ran across it idly as he shook his head, his eyes still looking incredibly heavy and sunken in his pale skin, "No...Draco..." he whispered, as if it was an explanation.

The two boys shared a look before grinning, "Oh, think it'll upset your  _boyfriend_?"

Harry paled even more and he tossed the Dungbomb back, what was he supposed to respond with, yes? He couldn't see Draco being pleased about having Dungbombs thrown at his door step. To think of it, he couldn't see him being very pleased with his blood running deep with Firewhiskey, either. Harry went stiff, would he be mad? Angry with him? Would he punish him or ignore him as he had done when he was previously upset with him? Harry hated when he ignored him...

"Listen, mate, we don't really give a shit you're shacking up with Malfoy, I mean the whole bloody school ain't stupid, we know," Seamus explained, "but if you can't prank the bugger what good is it snogging him?" Dean broke out in a laughter.

Blinking once and then again, Harry shook his head, the whole school knew? Knew what exactly? "And you guys don't care?"

"Hell no, not our business," Dean shook his head and then readied an aim at the portrait hole as he slid against the wall, ready to slink away into hiding.

" 'Sides, leaves more fish in the sea for us, mate," with that the boys, excluding Harry, tossed their Dungbombs at the portrait hole and the three ran for cover. Harry, however, found himself in a rather surprising position. The statue of a Merperson of a notable stature he had gone to hide behind, waiting with the other boys for the portrait hole to open, was already occupied by another person. The darkness blanketing him made for the perfect capture, the unsuspecting person was surprised just how easy it had been for her to take him.

A muffled cry was heard just feet away from Dean and Seamus, Harry's mouth was clamped shut and covered and he heard the whispers of a curse that rendered his body immobile and useless. But what was this feeling? It was like what he had imagined Muggle clorophorm to feel like when it took over, his vision became blurrier than it had been...was this the Firewhiskey? Was he that intoxicated or perhaps had he been poisoned...? The questions and thoughts passed as he slipped away, his body quickly levitated out of sight just before his house mates made it to where had been. They looked worriedly at each other, sobering almost immediately.

"Malfoy," they said in unison and resolve at the same time. This was the Slytherin dungeons on Hallow's Eve. Merlin knew how many active Death Eaters attended Hogwarts and guarantee each one of them would love a chance at the Great Harry Potter. Or perhaps it was one of the infamous Slytherin Halloween pranks, which was almost just as worrying.

The Gryffindor's banged on the portrait hole and were greeted by a sneering Theodore Nott. "What the hell do you want, Gryffindorks?" he snarled but was soon pushed out of the way by a menacing looking Malfoy, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits that made all those around him shiver. The power that dripped off of his every pour just demanded obedience, demanded silence in his presence.

"It's Harry,"

"We were just, uhm, in the corridor and..."

Draco shut them up easily, taking Seamus who was closest by his robes and without any effort brought him off the floor and up for their eyes to meet. His stone cold skin made the boy gasp in surprise, shiver in fear as he was brought close to the porcelain face. "Who?"

"We don't know, honest!" Draco shot Dean a quick glare that made him shut up almost immediately.

"Useless Gryffindor's," he growled and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on their thoughts alone before tossing Seamus carelessly to the stone floor and then striding over him. Nott merely looked the boys up and down before slamming the portrait hole shut, Seamus and Dean shared a terrified and confused look as the watched Draco vastly disappear down the corridor.

* * *

There are different kinds of darkness. There is the absence of light, where your eyes strain to make out the shadows of the objects surrounding you, your hands reach out feeling for the safety of support. There is the harrowing, frigid vehemence that swells from the depths of your soul, diverging outwards as it grips onto the marrow of your being. Then there is the madness that is born or bred. A darkness of vengeance, of hatred or of fear.

For the time being, Harry was experiencing all three forms of darkness as he woke with a dull ache in his head, the taste of pennies on his tongue. He found himself gagging, coughing with disgust at the taste he wasn't used to. His lids seemed too heavy to pry open and the attempts caused his stomach to lurch. Then the voices erupted into his ears, almost as if he was just tuning into the right radio wave as it was an explosion of an argument, he winced at the noise.

"I don't know what to do with you. Disembowel you as you stand before me, or perhaps drain you," Draco's familiar expletive hiss could be heard, venom laced so deeply in every word.

"You can't," came another, female voice, though it was soft Harry could tell it was shaking with undoubtedly fear. Even Harry still feared Draco when he was angry and he sounded much more than that, he sounded impossibly irate. "Dumbledore will sack you immediately and send you to Azkaban,"

A few heavy footsteps were heard before a small shriek from the girl, "You think that will stop me? You are a damned fool, Parkinson. Perhaps, I can just send you back to your lowly, filthy  _Lord_  a failure," Harry heard the distinct ruffle of robes, a loud crack against stone and a moan he could only take as Pansy Parkinson's head being thrown against the dungeon wall, "We both know how he deals with failures...then again," Draco seemingly dropped her as she groaned in more pain as her body awkwardly fell to the floor, Harry could even hear the snap of one of her ankles as it twisted beneath her, "it would be so much more fun for me to teach you a lesson, wouldn't it?"

There must have been something Harry was missing. Something he couldn't see. Pansy was still and silent but the atmosphere had shifted immensely, Harry found himself growing colder by the second. He could only imagine the look Draco was piercing into her, then he could hear hushed whispers and the distinct swallow of resigned, obedient fear. His lids still heavy, Harry found himself at least behind able to open them slowly. His glasses weren't from what he could tell on him whatsoever, his hands felt numb as they searched himself quickly for them immediately drawing attention to him. He was lying awkwardly on his back on a bed he didn't recognize but could tell was in the Slytherin dungeons. To his left he caught the sight of Parkinson crumbled in a heave on the floor, Draco towering over her till he realized Harry was waking. He was by his side in an unimaginable quick second, his cold hands sending shivers down the brunette's spine as they reached out to him, helping him to sit. Pansy, now free from Draco's wrath momentarily, began to slowly drag herself upwards, one hand nursing her injured ankle and the other rubbing her bloodied head the cut only small but the bleeding immense as all cranial injuries.

"How do you feel?" Draco questioned immediately, Harry was surprised he was asking at all, couldn't he tell automatically? "I will refrain from sentiments in the future," the blonde sighed, reading his thoughts, "Just a moment, love, I will make that pain disappear," he said, his hand reached up and cradled the side of Harry's face, the cold felt fantastic against the dull throbbing inside of his temple. Harry was lost, confused as to what was happening, and it didn't help that Pansy Parkinson was still on the floor, sobbing quietly.

Draco swiftly turned towards her, "Leave. Now. Before I forget my kindness and snap your neck," he growled. It didn't take telling her twice before she hobbled off.

"Draco...did you break her ankle?"

The vampire's eyes narrowed, glaring momentarily at Harry, "Her human stupidity did that for her. It also gave her a concussion,"

"But...won't she have to go to Madame Pomfrey? Won't you get into troubl-" Draco's hand shot up to Harry's throat, it held him them with such speed and strength the brunette's eyes widened, he already felt weak enough but now as Draco's fingers curled around his windpipe cutting off the circulating air he felt about to pass into darkness once again.

"Do you think me a fool, Potter? Do you think I fear? Have you not been learning or listening at all?" he clacked and then released him, heavy pants of breath stabilizing his weak and confused self. "Parkinson knows as well as I do not to inform any staff members of our...interaction. She has more skeletons in her closet than I do as I have nothing to hide, I lay what I am bare for those around me to see and that bitch still thinks she can manipulate me to give her what she wants,"

"I didn't do anything fucking wrong here," Harry hissed in return with the little energy he had left in his weary body, "So could you not attack me for five bloody minutes?"

Draco was about to reiterate to Harry how much of him was his now, that technically he owned him in all rights of the word, but he forced himself to keep his mouth closed for once. To be honest, though he was leery to admit verbally, he was glad Harry was alright, that Parkinson hadn't done worse to him. Though, he was craving to give that girl what he believed she deserved.

Harry waited, seething, for Draco's rebuttal and when it didn't come he drew in a sharp breath. "What was all that about?"

"That filthy pug," he glowered, "Thought she could take advantage of my circumstances. I had to put her in her rightful place just as I did Zabini,"

"How could she...What, they want you to...?"

Nodding, Draco sat on the edge of the bed now, "To change them, yes. They are unworthy of the honour, they are too weak for what I have to offer," he held his nose in the air and Harry wanted to almost laugh at it, sometimes he looked like such a princess, stubbornly holding himself above others. Harry's smile immediately fell at the glare Draco sent him, sometimes it slipped that the boy constantly invaded his thoughts.

"But you think I'm worthy enough?"

"It takes a certain kind of person whom holds specifics traits and thoughts, shall we say, to handle this precious gift as it should be handled. You possess those thoughts. I have heard them many times, up on the Astronomy Tower, during meals in The Great Hall, as you loathe your sortings of your friends and their company, as you read the Daily Prophet and are sickened by your own thoughts that turn in response..." Draco brought his hand up to caress the side of Harry's face, his skin only slightly warmer than his own now as he had fed off of him so often, Harry sighed and leaned into the touch. "You will make an exceptional beast like myself. There are those unprepared for this darkness to take them. They tend to drive themselves to lunacy or a coward's death, such as my Master did,"

Ears perked at the sound of the mention of his Master, Harry yearned and question often who he had been and what he had meant to Draco, he wanted to know the story of how he had come to be the way he was - the way Harry would soon one day be. "You will know my story to its fullest, my love, when you taste me, just as I know every part of you. I barely knew my Master more than a fortnight before he sacrificed himself, good riddance. I will be more for you in those respects. I seek in you my companion to own our gift, to use it as it was intended to be used; to rule the scum that flutters around us, to crush our opponents with ease beneath our tooth and hand. I will be the Master I myself deserved to have," Draco drew himself nearer to Harry, his face inches away and hovering before his, steely eyes observing him.

"You already are a good Maker, Draco," Harry blushed, lowering his eyes as Draco raised his brow, "I know technically since you haven't...turned me, you're not...but I know you will be. And I'm...grateful. You know I want it more than anything,"

"The darkness? No, Harry. I can tell you want something more than that, just one thing," Draco drawled, his hand underlying Harry's jaw and forcing it upwards as their lips barely met, "Me," he closed his eyes and crushed his hard lips against Harry's who pushed into him almost too desperately. Draco grinned into their kiss, but as Harry's smell began to tantalize him he couldn't help but release his fangs which Harry jumped and moaned at as he usually did. Harry brought himself, as weary as he felt, to crawl up on top of Draco straddling him. His excitement pushed into the vampire's lap and he moaned out loud when he felt the blonde's own arousal in return. In a split second, however, he found himself lying back on the bed, his hands pinned beside his head as Draco hovered over him. The look in his crimson rimmed eyes was playful but at the same time serious, Harry was blinking confusedly up at him.

"And here you are again, ready to give yourself to me yet with tainted blood. I am beginning to wonder that you believe I deserve it," Draco drawled, he lowered his lips onto Harry's neck as the boy beneath him shivered excitedly at the contact, his eyes closing and his mind screaming for more it was almost too difficult for Draco to hold back, "Firewhiskey is tolerable. But I like your blood clean, Potter," he flickered out his sharp tongue, running the length of the crook of Harry's neck to his collar bone. His mouth stilled in its favourite spot, between the collar bone and the neck, and his fangs vastly drove into his skin, breaking it as if it were glass in the hand's of a giant. Harry gasped at first in pain but allowed himself to succumb to the sensation he always longed for, the feeling of Draco taking his essence into him and bringing him to the brink of collapse and then leaving him there, teetering over a vulnerable edge. Wriggling a hand free, Harry let his fingers begin their work on Draco's robes and then his shirt, quickly discarding them as the blonde fed contently. Harry was surprised what he could do under the cold weight and the exhaustion of being fed on but soon he found he had undressed not only Draco but himself, without hardly budging from beneath his counterpart.

"Draco," Harry breathed, the blonde slowly and reluctantly retracted himself, his lips stained red and his eyes gleaming with desire, "I want you to  _have_  me," Harry hissed, capturing the blonde's lips with his own again as his arousal oddly grew at the taste of his own iron blood. "I want you to have me as you feed. Please," he added what he knew to be Draco's favourite word to hear from his lips and Harry knew he would get his way. It was all Draco needed in convincing as he flipped Harry onto his stomach with ease and whispered into the hollow of his ear.

"Your wish, my love, my command,"

 


	12. Becoming Death

_"Do you know what it means to have Death know your name?"_

_Everything we are has led to where we find ourselves, standing over the brink of our own existence. We can wield the power to desotry all those in our path or to ignore them, to be just as we will with one another. My darkness will become yours, yours will become mine, there will be no separation and no end to each others beginnings._

* * *

Spiralling into a void, flailing his arms as his fingers searched desperately for an edge to cling to. Would the descent down ever end? Would his initiation ever be complete? It was becoming torturous as the days drew on, to attempt to hold some sort of façade as he bid his time by attempting to concentrate on school. How could he? Those piercing silver eyes found him wherever he went. Those deathly hands left electricity dancing across his skin whenever they got the chance to, whether it be in a darkened corridor corner, behind a statue or just when nobody was looking. When night came, he would seek him out, Harry found this almost amusing. He could hide anywhere from the tops of the towers, the owlery where Hedwig shunned him, or the expansive Grounds be it the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake beckoning...it never took Draco more than five minutes to sense him out, find him and have him. It was the moment Harry waited for each day, that coming night where he could hold his dead lover and bury his head in his chest, his unbeating heart lying against his ear. They would embrace, they would kiss as if it was the air they needed to breath, they would make love as if they were dying...which in a sense, Harry was. Slowly, but surely, his body was becoming weaker and his skin paler, Draco even commented that his blood was thickened as it was preparing for either inevitable poison or to welcome the dark gift. Harry's ever looming question, which was always dismissed too easily, was when. When could he join Draco? When could he drop his façade? Harry was glad they could share their odd affection, if one could call it that, in public now much to many's dismay, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep up pretending to be alive.

Days droned into weeks and weeks somehow dragged into months. The snow fell heavy across the Grounds, Harry welcomed the cold and lack of light; not only did Draco have to take less Potions but it gave a good excuse for his pallor and cool touch, both of theirs. After Parkinson's attempt at bribery as well as Zabini's, rumours began to circulate. People were avoiding Draco more than they used to have and same with Harry, especially since they knew they would have an angry, wrathful and terrifying blonde in their wake if they merely said the wrong words against Harry.

Hermione tried desperately at times to steal moments with her old friend, though she was bitter she still found time for them to study alone, outside of Ron's knowledge and sight. The only time Harry saw the redhead, he was blatantly ignoring him as Ron did in return. It was a mutual distaste for one another though sometimes Hermione would drag her boyfriend to converse with Harry, neither up for much conversation would just wiggle their way out of it as fast as possible. Harry didn't care. He didn't need anybody but himself, the less people attached to him the better for it meant the less people who would get hurt. Not that he cared so much any more, Draco taught him well that he should think more about what was best for him and what he desired. And Harry did, it would enrage him for what he desired was being held from him, dangled right before his reach but unable to touch it. He had no idea why Draco waited to turn him but the Slytherin merely said the time wasn't right.

"Stop thinking," Draco whispered, his eyes never leaving the Potions text he was immersed in, Harry sighed and snuggled in deeper to him, he was always so tired, all he wanted was to sleep. They were sharing an armchair in the drawing room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It being rightfully Harry's since Sirius passed, despite all Dumbledore's pleas Harry went to stay there for the Christmas holidays. He was glad he also convinced, with much effort, for Draco to know Grimmauld Place so he could stay with them. Just the two, uninterupted, for two whole precious weeks.

It was the eve before Christmas. Hermione had begged Harry to come to The Burrow in the morning and he declined, until an angry Mrs Weasley Floo'd him, guilting what little bit of empathy he had left dwelling inside. She assured him that despite whatever was happening between him and Ron, she wanted all her sons there for Christmas morning. This panned Harry, somewhere deep, but it was easily drowned out by Draco's drawled laughter as he had been listening to the Floo conversation. Feeling reluctant, the thought of being at The Burrow surrounded by people he didn't wish to spend his time with any longer, the spirit of the evening before was lost on Harry.

Draco sighed, "Here I thought we were going to be having a quiet, relaxing evening," he felt Harry's anxiety ripping through him, turning the blood in his veins to concrete. He closed his book, setting it on the side table and bringing Harry to face him. "Could you stop feeling those prudish human emotions for just a moment?" there was no emotion crossing the creature's face.

"Fuck off, Draco. It's not my fault I'm still what I am," Harry crossed his arms, much like a toddler in a tantrum as he puffed his lips defiantly out. Draco's hand grasped his shoulder tightly, his nails digging uncomfortably into his skin.

"You're becoming too eager, Potter, you're making it much less appealing than it was,"

In a rage Harry stood, pushing himself off of Draco and glaring at him. He no longer feared him, when Draco was in him and his blood ran into the blonde he knew that he was safe where he was, he knew dead or alive Draco would protect him. "You can't turn back now, Malfoy, it's a little too fucking late for that don't you think? Fucking dying this slowly isn't all sunshine and roses like you may think it is, at least your Master turned you quickly,"

It was so quick Harry couldn't even tell how it happened, Draco had him pressed up against the far wall, his head had collided so hard his eyes were blurry beneath his glasses. Nails threatened to break his thick skin at the forearms, his breath was caught momentarily in his throat as he looked up at an angered Draco. "Watch it, Potter. I can just leave you like this, living everyday in agony until my poison finally does its way with you,"

Harry's eyes narrowed, "You wouldn't," he stated tersely, causing silver to pierce him even further. "Waiting is killing me, you know what I want, you know what I need to be what I am...I can't face them any longer, I need out of this skin," Harry sounded pleading, Draco softened only slightly but didn't release his hold. 

"This isn't something you can choose to become just to momentarily escape your friends, or something to do to piss off that Weasel wanker. This is permenant. Once you are mine and I am your Master, your Maker, you will never be able to return to face them again as you do now. They will be dirt beneath your shoe and nothing will ever alter that," Draco warned.

With determined emerald eyes, Harry nodded, holding Draco's unwavering gaze, "The already are beneath me. They're beneath you. Together, nothing could be above us,"

Draco slowly smirked, leaning in, barring his teeth. "Yes...imagine who we could crush, Harry. Tomorrow evening, I have a present for you and you have one to give to me...I will let you give yourself to me," even the mention of it had Draco's eyes swelling with pleasure, he knew he could have Harry Potter, the most powerful wizard of their age, on his knees begging to be Draco's. It was such a heightened sense of power that it gave him.

"Please, please. I would want that more than anything," Harry swallowed.

"I know," he smirked, forcibly shoving his body with a animistic growl forming in his throat as he did up against the brunette, "What will you give my in thanks?"

Harry stopped for a moment, stilled in thought before closing his eyes and without the need for a wand he whispered, " _Incidere_ ," immediately he winced at the words, a cut sliced through him somewhere but Draco couldn't see it. He could smell it, that sweet, sultry blood flooded his senses and he growled even louder now.

"Where? Potter, where-" Draco's eyes were narrowed, searching desperately for where to cover the cut with his mouth, lap his tongue and take what was rightfully his into him, he was always so hungry for Harry.

Harry found himself grinning like a madman and as the corners of his mouth curled up, blood trickled across his lips from the insides of his cut cheek. He leaned forward and captured Draco's flabbergasted lips which then hungrily began their ministrations, the more they kissed the more blood that soaked into Draco's tongue, lips and mouth, satisfying him yet leaving him craving more.

"You should've been in Slytherin, you little devil," Draco hissed as he parted only for a moment from Harry to wrap himself around him and continue draining the forced wound. Harry's heart sped up, his knees weakened as his mind slipped into that place where Draco always brought him - blissful darkness.

* * *

He attempted to keep himself occupied but it was a lot harder than usual. It wasn't quite nerves as it was ready anticipation to turn Harry. Or perhaps it was the fact he was too distant from him, he was in a different part of Britain separated only by a Floo away. Even so far away, he could feel the faint pangs of discomfort washing off of him. He couldn't expect Harry's Christmas morning and afternoon to be any sort of joyful whilst stuck in the presence of those he no longer cared for. Sleep alluded Draco, though he tried numerous times to keep his eyes shut. Kreacher's pacing up and down the hallway, mumbling to himself, on top of Mrs Black's screams bellowing in the corridor were more than enough for him to avoid sleep - not like he needed it anyway, it was just something to pass the time as he waited for Harry's return.

For a brief moment, Draco questioned if he was ready for this. In the reality of it all, he was still such a new creature which is why his urges to feed and allure were still so strong in him. There was also the fact that Harry was so desparate and both of their actions were being blinded by emotions and instinctual urges. Was this really the way he was to sire the man he had somehow, in the depths of his dark and dead heart, begun to love? It was nearly nightfall when he heard a thud from the drawing room, all of his senses perked immediately upon Harry's scent and thoughts becoming stronger in Draco's head; Yes. Without question he knew he had to have Harry as his, to be able to call to him whenever and wherever, to know no matter what, where or when that the brunette's blood belonged to him, ran for him, that he died for him and held his new life in his hands. Not only that, but he wanted to ease Harry's troubled thoughts, he wanted to give him the freedom to choose for himself to do as he wished, to be unbound by society's restraints that had been placed on him.

The met in the corridor, immediately embracing, Harry's face was sullen. "I take it that filthy Burrow wasn't as fun as it used to be?" Draco drawled.

"Urgh, it was horrible. Ginny kept trying to talk to me, Fred and George were alright but damned Hermione and her questions never ended. Thankfully Ron stayed the hell away from me," Harry snarled, he really couldn't take much more of it, he didn't trust his own temper and power the next time Ron exploded at him, especially if it were in reference to Draco - the only thing that made him feel anything other than resentment and anger those days. Harry took notice of Draco's clothing. He wasn't in school robes but fine, thick winter cloaks bearing his family crest on the left breast. They were lined in a silver that matched his eyes, he wore a dress blouse beneath it as well as dress trousers. Harry, looking at his casual wear, frowned, "You're all dressed up," 

Draco chuckled, watching Harry as he looked over himself in disapointment, "Don't worry, I knew you wouldn't be dressed for the occasion. Your clothes are lying on our bed, please," he gestured towards the room. As soon as night fell he wanted to begin, giving them as much time between then and sunrise to complete the turning.

Once Harry was adorned in clothing that mimicked Draco's, other than the family crest and lined in emerald instead of silver, the two set out, their fingers entwined as they stalked through the heavy, falling snow on Christmas Day.  _'Last year, if I told myself that I'd be spending Christmas with Draco Malfoy about to become a vampire...I'd have probably checked right into St Mungo's Ward For the Criminally Insane,'_

"Oh, please," Draco rolled his eyes, "Even a year ago you would've embraced the adventure of this, you've always had a knack for dangerous events and I don't even need to read your mind to know it,"

Harry flushed, it was true. It was so difficult to remember that his mind was constantly being prodded, listened in on, it was hard to control his thoughts. It wasn't like Leglimancy and Occulmency, it was much more different than that. "Can you choose not to listen to my thoughts?" Harry questioned curiously.

"Yes, but what would the point of that be, exactly?" 

"Privacy," Harry shrugged, not that he cared much but there had been numerous enconuters now where Draco had been upset or confused by some of the thoughts that came to Harry's head, it would be nice to have some of it to himself again.

Draco gripped his hand tightly, causing Harry to wince at the sudden strong squeeze, "Remember, Harry,  _mine_. That includes your thoughts,"

Harry nodded, he knew, but it would still be nice...they had been walking for awhile now, Draco seemed to turn down random streets, they passed few others on their way. "Where are we going?" Harry finally asked, wouldn't it be more prudent to turn him in Grimmauld Place where they could be private with one another?

"To find you a gift," Draco merely shrugged, "It has been awhile since I have felt the essence of life slip from beneath my teeth and you so kindly made me promise not to kill without you. So I won't, which is why you're coming with me now. I want you to choose whom you want, we will take them, I will feed and give you a taste...you must understand and see it before your eyes before you decide to succumb to me forever,"

Gulping, Harry realized that Draco was searching for suitable prey. It wasn't that he was nervous, scared or perplexed about whether or not it was good or alright to take another unsuspecting humans life, on Christmas none the less, but he was excited. Absolutely thrilled. And it his anticipation is what terrified him. Draco felt it rush through him and he couldn't help but become aroused, he yanked Harry closer to him, "Yes, that's it, it's all in the excitement of finding the prey,"

It was another block before somebody caught Harry's eye. It was just outside of a restaurant, closing shop early for Christmas Day. She was young, maybe twenty years or so, and she looked to be alone. She had a fag lit between her lips, taking a long drag of it before she looked down the streets for a taxi with no such luck. She was tall, slender, with long flowing red hair, it waved slightly at her shoulders. She looked beautiful and at the sametime she reminded Harry a little bit of Ginny. Draco immediately followed his thoughts and gaze, he observed the girl for a moment, concentrating on her thoughts that sprang out to him as he did. "Oh Harry, beginner's luck," he drawled. The two stood now, as Draco had led them, to the corner of the street, leaning up against the wall not far from an alleyway. The girl had walked slowly, taking drags as she did, to the decker stop where she stood alone.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes transfixed on the girl. It would be her, the first for him to taste. He would be there as Draco fed from her, took her life, snuffed her out, and Harry would help. The knowledge of this merely heightened his trepidation as he buried his thoughts screeching in his ear of how he was a horrible human being.

"Her boyfriend was cheating on her, she found out a few nights ago. It's always so much better when they welcome it so easily. A girl going to an empty home after work on Christmas Day...it's bloody depressing, if you care for novelties like that. Sadness makes the blood so much sweeter," Draco began to close the distance between himself and the girl, Harry was confused. Now was where he was lost. What were they going to do, just snatch her off the streets screaming? "Wait," Draco ordered Harry, his cloak flowing behind him as he walked away. Harry obliged, waiting impatiently at the corner, his eyes piercing onto the scene before him.

What happened next surprised Harry. The redhead blushed, she reached into her small purse and withdrew a fag to give to Draco who smiled effervescently down at her as she fumbled for her light. After a long draw from it, the smoke surrounded her and Draco as the blonde spoke in such a low voice Harry couldn't catch a word of it or the inflection. It didn't really matter, all he could think about was just how unbelievably sexy Draco looked dragging a cigarette, which strangely surprised Harry. A moment passed of conversation before Draco held out his crooked arm, she took it and allowed him to lead her down the street further away from Harry who pouted, where were they going? Then he saw the little flick of Draco's free hand, beckoning him to follow. Harry waited a moment before he did, a good twenty steps behind.

It wasn't long before they disappeared into a dark alley. It was between the restaurant and a closed bank. Harry found himself unable to see Draco or the girl within it until he reached the far end. Behind a large recycling reciptacle Draco had the redhead pushed up against the wall, she looked feverish but was smiling almost like a little school girl. She reminded Harry too much of Ginny in that moment which made the urge to see her life slip away all that more great. "I want you to meet me friend, Harry," Draco's voice sounded odd, it sounded thicker and breathier all at the sametime and Harry found himself captivated by it. The look in Draco's eyes pulled him and the girl in, who didn't even remove her gaze from Draco to greet the third party who stood awkwardly, watching Draco pin her with a devilish smirk. "Harry, just say the words, I will do when you command,"

"I...uh...here? Draco...isn't this a little too public?"

"It makes it that much more stimulating,"

Harry found himself grinning like a madman at that point. Draco had prided himself on owning Harry, on having him be subserviant when he was just as equally submissive. He always waited for Harry's mind to call out to him to feed on him, or for Harry to ask him to do something. Now he waited for Harry's command to kill, and Harry could tell Draco was hungry for new blood as he hadn't killed since reattending Hogwarts which for a new vampire must be a very long time. Harry waited a minute, just watching the girl who was transfixed under Draco's spell, he wanted to trade places with her but knew she had to be rid of first. Harry walked behind Draco, still a little surprised that the girl had yet to awknowledge his presence...was allure that simple to send a human into such a daze? He ran his hands down Draco's front, across his stomach and landed on his waist where he gripped and leaned forward, licking the hollow of his ear before he whispered, "Do it," and before he even finished his second word, Draco quickly leaned forward and crushed his teeth into her neck. Her trance was ended, she gasped and was about to wail into the night but one of Harry's hands found its way to her mouth, covering it tightly. Harry met her terrified, confused eyes and felt absolutely nothing for her. He was surprised again by himself. It really was easy not to care. Draco took a few minutes before the girls squirming became subtle, faint. Her eyes were beginning to look tired, withdrawn, and her breathing was shallow.

"Come here," Draco hissed against her broken skin at her neck. Harry let go of the girls mouth, she didn't attempt to make a noise even if she could with the little energy she had left inside of her, "Taste," he demanded, leaning back his head far enough for Harry to place his own lips on the girls skin.

At first it was putrid. Sour, almost, but sweet as well. He felt sloppy as he licked at the flowing blood and sucked, the noises he made as he fed he had never heard from Draco and it was making him feel embarassed. The taste was definitely something he would have to get used to, he withdrew, a contorted look on his face. "It will taste differently when you are turned," Draco assured him before resuming his feed. When he was finished, the girls eyes were empty. Her heart had stilled now as she lay limp in his arms.

"Now what?" Harry asked, he wasn't sure of the procedures Draco usually took. The blonde stood back, the body dropped to the ground limply.

" _Incendio_ ," her body went up in flames as Draco spoke, "Hurry now, somebody will smell it," he led the way, his hand on Harry's, through the night and back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. "Clean yourself," Draco ordered as soon as they entered, his voice sounded husky and stronger than Harry had remembered, his eyes were fully red now all hints of silver had left them.

"Clean my-" Harry was confused but it was too late, Draco growled and closed their distance, his tongue lapped over his lips and chin, apparently he had been a messy eater.

"Now that you've seen it, do you still want it?" Draco asked, unbuttoning his winters cloak and throwing it aside in the foyer as he motioned for Harry to do the same.

Harry nodded eagerly, "Yes, indefinitely. If not more,"

"Good, because I don't think I could've waited any longer anyway," it was amazing just how fast Draco could be sometimes and the thought escaped Harry. In under three seconds he had hoisted Harry into his arms and brought them to their room, what used to be the room at Grimmauld Place that Harry would share with Ron when they would stay there. There were no words, Draco was still pumping with the new blood and the thrill and power of the kill he had longed for. There were no formalities and Harry understood, Draco was just as eager as he was. His teeth pierced his flesh, once on his neck and drinking for a moment before Draco's sharp bite led downward to his wrist. Harry sighed, ignoring the pain the jolted through him and the instinctual urge to protect himself. He knew what was going to happen, Draco was going to bring him close to death and then give his own blood.

When he was there, Draco's hungry, red eyes appeared over Harry's weary emerald ones, he was smiling sloppily at the blonde who used his own fingernail to rip a jagged cut through his neck which he then lowered to Harry's mouth. Harry took in the blood which was wholly different from what he had experienced earlier. It tasted like pure, sultry, bitter iron. It was cold the moment it hit his lips, it was refreshing and not as revolting as the girls had been. He drank. He consumed. Draco suddenly hissed and pushed himself off of Harry, his hand covered the wound on his neck. "It's not working," his voice was pure in anger.

"How...can..you.." Harry trailed off, his voice was so weak, Draco had taken so much from him. So he thought instead,  _'How can you tell it's not going to work?_ '

Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I don't know, you tell me, Potter,"

_'Draco...what do you mean?'_  Harry felt himself getting dizzy, his eyes were heavy and he couldn't move his limbs.

"Your already taken. Your already somebody else's and I can't turn something that's already been taken,"

Harry wanted to shout a refusal to his words but he wasn't quick enough as his mind and body slipped into a soothing, lulling darkness.

 


	13. Born

_"Take me from this earth_   
_an endless night-_   
_this, the end of life._   
_From the dark I feel your lips_   
_and taste your bloody kiss."_

_Here it is, have it. I give to you the greatest gift that can ever be given; the key to a darkness so enrapturing and empowering you become lost within it. This will satisfy your ache, your hunger for anew. Here we can begin, here we can die, here we can live._

* * *

_'I couldn't be more thoroughly disappointed. After all this time, all the proper precautions and steps taken, I cannot make him mine. The recoil in my blood as his own tried to mend with mine, it was distinct and I knew. I knew in an instant he would not be able to be sired...he is to die now, at my own hands, from my own poison...'_  "Draco, please, speak. You're so silent it's scaring me,"

The voice stirred him from his reverie, he looked over at the disant brunette who sat cross-legged on the couch opposit his armchair, he was leaning on one hand as his sharp fingernails scraped against his lips in thought. "Hrm? Oh, sorry, Harry," was all he could say before he was lost again. His anger had subsided hours prior, he was now attempting to grasp understanding of whom Harry already belonged to.

"Can you at least tell me what it is you're thinking about? Are you really that angry with me...or is it that I'm useless to you now that I can't be turned?" Harry's voice fell as he spoke, he frowned and looked down at his hands in his lap.

Draco's attention snapped away from his thoughts, "Never think like that. I thought you understood and I need not speak the words, Harry. It's not just the power you hold or the blood in your veins, it's all parts of you I love and care for, which is why I wanted to make you mine for an eternity on our own," he sighed, bringing both his hands up to rub his temples, his head ached, he had brought Harry so close to death earlier that evening and his body wanted to give it to him, give him death's kiss, but he wasn't able to. "You're dying, Harry. Can't you feel it? Can't you feel the poison etching deeper into you?"

Harry sighed, nodding as he bit his lower lip, "Yeah...it feels like I did before but stronger. So what? It's still death, it'll still get me away from here,"

"No, Harry, I won't have that. The only death I will allow you to succumb to is my own," Draco stood slowly from his chair to sit beside Harry, he wearily lay his head on his shoulders and for once it was him burying into Harry's chest, his slow heartbeat comforting in his ears. "Are you sure no oaths? You never made an Unbreakable Vow? Your parents never betrothed you before they were killed?" Draco asked the questions Harry had already answered, "No prophecies or sights laid for you?"

"Prophecies?" Harry's attention was peaked, that stupid Prophecy surely couldn't mean...his eyes went wide, "Uh...I think I know who I belong to, Draco,"

Draco shot up at attention, "Who?"

"It's Riddle. There was a Prophecy that stated neither one of us could die by any other hands other than each others..." Harry shook his head, grimacing, "That snake, devilled bastard. He's gotta ruin absolutely everything,"

"Riddle? Really?" Draco's voice sounded lighter, he even let a small chuckle escape his throat, "Fodder is what he is. You say you must be killed by him to die and he by you likewise?" Harry nodded slowly, he could see the gears working in Draco's head and it concerned him, what could he be thinking? If it in anyway involved that madman he didn't want any part of it. "I've got an idea, Harry, but you have to trust me with it,"

"Of course, I trust you," Harry said without thought and he did.

"No, Harry," Draco became more stern, his eyes demanded all seriousness, "You have to trust me with your  _life_ ,"

"I already do," Harry gestured awkwardly at his wrist and the numerous markings some faded some new in his neck.

"You have to be ready to meet true mortal death before I can give you my death, you have to trust me that I will do what is necessary once you're dead. Can you do that, Harry?"

Harry didn't have to pause, though he wasn't sure what Draco was planning he had no second thoughts. What the two had shared together and planned for their futures left no room for doubt or mistrust. "Yes, I can. Draco, I'll die for you twice if that's what I need to do to be like you,"

Draco's mouth twisted into a smirk, "Then come, Harry, let's plan your funeral,"

* * *

The Burrow was relatively quiet two days after Christmas. Ginny spent most of her time with Molly, cleaning or baking, as Ron and Hermione enjoyed one another's company. Fred and George were back tending to their shop, Arthur was working long hours as he always did back at the Ministry. When in the late afternoon, a loud crack could be heard from somewhere inside the crooked house, all ears were brought to attention.

It wasn't long before all four occupants of The Burrow were standing in the living room, looking to greet whoever had just apparated there. It was Professor McGonagall, much to all the Weasley's and Hermione's surprise. She looked pale, out of breath and in a lost state. She skipped the formalities of greeting and ignored all the questions that barely had a chance to slip out of their mouths, she was focused on Ron and Hermione and she spoke hurriedly.

"Mr Potter's been taken. He has been captured by the Dark Lord," she explained, all four faces dropped and stared in disbelief.

"Where? How?"

"It was Malfoy," Ron growled beneath his breath, clenched fists. As much as him and Harry didn't get along lately it was all only because of the ferret and because what he had been trying to get Harry to see was so obviously true .

"Ronald, you can't just assume-" 

"No, he is correct," McGonagall cut Hermione off, "All we know so far is that Malfoy took him to his Aunt, one Miss Bellatrix Lestrange, to hand him over to You-Know-Who,"

Ginny looked enraged, "Then what are we doing here? Has Dumbledore gone to get him? Take us to him!" she screamed at McGonagall who winced at the young redheaded's anger, Molly placed a shaking hand on her daughter's shoulder and held it tightly.

"We were informed by Severus who seems to have been called there for that purpose, to witness the downfall of Harry Potter...however, entering the Lestrange Manor is exceedingly difficult. You have to be of the same blood...which is why I was sent here. Mr Weasley, Dumbledore's requests your presence as well as Ms Granger's,"

"Fine, but I'm only coming if you understand I am going to murder that piece of shit vampire the moment I see his slimy face!" he growled. Ginny looked disappointed but her worried Mother was holding her tighter now, refusing to let her go.

"Ginerva, it's not safe," 

"And you're just going to let Ron go?! I'm related to that bitch, too!" Ginny argued.

"There's no time for this, we have to act quickly. If you're of blood, you will be able to apparate to the Manor easily with one another, here, concentrate on this," McGonagall slipped Ron a picture and he stared at it, it was a picture of Bellatrix's Manor.

"But, Professor, I can't apparate," he said sheepishly, then handed over the picture of the Manor to Hermione who grabbed it eagerly from his hands.

"No, that is why Ms Granger is needed as well," she explained, looking pointedly at Hermione who nodded. "Please, hurry, time is of the essence now,"

Hermione didn't need telling twice, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of the Manor still fresh in her head as she clasped her hand together with Ron's. She felt the tug at her navel and the automatic nauseous feeling that crept up her stomach. In a split second their feet landed hard on the unfamiliar floor. Ron looked sick from the apparition as they took in their change of surroundings.

They were in what seemed to be a corridor, though it was much larger than that you would find at any usual home. The walls were barren yet the dark wallpaper and marble floor beneath their feet gave the atmosphere a chilling sensation. They could hear it in the distance, a murmur of voices and every once and awhile a clatter of...laughter? They looked at one another, worried, what did Dumbledore expect of them now? They weren't prepared for this, why hadn't McGonagall apparated with Ron instead? It was too late to second guess their purpose. "Let's find Snape before we find Harry," Hermione said, Ron nodded in agreeance understanding just how much at a loss they both were now that they were in an unfamiliar, cold Manor that belonged to one of the most deranged Death Eaters.

It wasn't long before they came across a room, its great double oak doors were closed. They crept up to them, pressing their ears against them, holding their baited breath as they listened. There didn't seem to be many Death Eater's, they could differentiate a few voices. When they heard Voldemort's hiss, shivers raked down their spines, Hermione's hand found Ron's quietly as they eavesdropped.

"...I am proud of your ssson, Luciussss. I would like to initiate him tonight,"

"Now, my dearest Lord," it was Draco's silken voice they heard speaking, it was almost enough to make Ron forget who else was in the room and rush in and murder him on the spot, "if I were marked I wouldn't have been able to fool Potter so easily. My condition makes it so easy to convince those that might need convincing...marking me would make it that much harder,"

"Very sssmart, young Malfoy, you have proven your loyalty to our cause enough,"

"Do it, my Lord! Just do it!" hissed the insane, infamous crazed voice of Bellatrix, "I can't wait any longer! Kill him, kill him!"

"Bellatrix, silence," Voldemort's words were harsh, cold, the room stilled, "Potter, wandless, defenseless, any last words?"

There was a moment of silence, Hermione and Ron held their breaths as they leaned in ever so closer to the door. They were stilled, what could they do? Run in and get themselves killed? "Fuck off," Harry's voice growled, though it seemed low and weaker than usual.

"My Lord, may I?" Draco asked, Hermione and Ron couldn't see what he was gesturing at but it seemed with every word he spoke Ron became angrier.

"By all means, enjoy your reward, my sssson, you dessserve it,"

They suddenly heard Harry whimper, softly, they looked at one another in the corridor outside of the room questioningly. What could they do? The time for action was running out, they had to go, they had to hope, keep their fingers crossed, they couldn't stand idly by as Harry was brought close to death. They burst through at the same time, their wands drawn and immediately flying curses that were easily reflected. They were no match for the occupants of the room; Lucius Malfoy, Snape, Bellatrix and Voldemort. The three Death Eater's stood behind their Lord, his twisted face automatically grinned at the two Gryffindor's in a sneering greeting as Hermione gasped at the sight of Harry, Draco hovering over him his teeth barred, his mouth and chin bloody from draining him. Harry appeared nearly dead, his skin so pale and he lay almost motionless, his chest barely rising as he breathed.

"What have we here...a Mudblood and a Pureblood? A Weasley?" Voldemort spoke to them, "Ah, Harry Potter's friends,"

"Harry has no friends," Draco hissed, he looked animistic, his back hunched as he glared at Ron and Hermione. 

"You fucking git," Ron growled at him, even in the Dark Lord's presence it was Draco whom he still felt the most hatred for, "I will murder you with my bare hands, you got that?"

Draco with lightning speed had thrown Ron almost across the room, his head and left side of his body collided with a far end wall. Bellatrix was cackling as she watched it, whispering to herself, as Snape hid his grimace beneath his mask and Lucius looked almost ill - it had been the first time he had seen his son since his change. "Weasley, the only reason I'm not draining you right here and now is..." Draco stopped himself, in all honesty it was because he knew Harry wouldn't be fond of the idea as much as he hated his late friend, "...your blood is so thick with dirt, I wouldn't want it to poison me," he hissed.

"Severusssss, allow our new guessstsss to watch as their friend diesss, before they do," Voldemort demanded.

"Yes, m'lord," Snape nodded. Within a moment he had Hermione, who went without fight and under wand point, as well as Ron held tightly in his own hands, they knew that they were safe in his hands. They tried to turn to look at him but he seemed to ignore them, looking straight on as Voldemort drew his wand.

"Mark this day," he hissed, "As the day I kill The Boy Who Lived To Die... _Avada Kedavra_!" it had happened a lot faster than Hermione and Ron would've expcted, it was now that they fought against Snape's hold, was he really just going to stand there!? But it was all simply too late. Harry's eyes had become still as his body had connected with the emerald light, his heart was still and breathing stopped. Hermione tore her teary eyes from her friend and to Draco who stared at the lifeless body, no sign of emotion on his face as he stood stark still and straight, just staring.

"He killed Harry Potter! He killed Harry Potter!" Bellatrix sang, she was clapping madly and happily behind Voldemort who took a deep breath in and began to open his mouth but before he could speak a cold hand wrapped around his throat in a second.

"Speak another word and I will show you just how truly you are the dirt under my shoe, you filthy, worthless  _Lord_ ," Draco had collided Voldemort's back with the wall, his eyes were rimmed red and he grip tightened. Voldemort drew his wand to point at Draco but the blonde with his free hand took it and snapped it, crumbled the wood with pheonix core to a thousand pieces with ease beneath his iron grasp.

"Draco! Stop it this instant!" it was Lucius that finally spoke.

"The next person who speaks I can promise you will be dead before you can finish your sentence," he growled at the occupants of the room, "Severus. Leave. Take that filthy Mudblood and that pathetic excuse for a Pureblood with you. Now," he ordered, the greasy Potions Master need not be told twice as he apparated out of the room, his hold on the two Gryffindor's.

"Greedy for power, Masssster Draco?" Voldemort hissed, grinning icily beneath Draco's ever tightening grip on his neck, "You ssssurely musssst be aware that no one can kill me other than Harry Potter and look at that...he'sssss already dead," he laughed, Bellatrix following his laughter.

"It only depends on your definition of the word dead," Draco found himself smirking now, with such ease he took both his hands to twist the man's neck in his hands until he heard a painful snap, the Dark Lord bit back as shriek, it infuriated him.

"Harry here, likes to define dead as escape. He doesn't see death as dying but as starting over, as being powerful and having an ease of mind and peace of state. He sees it as I did,"

"Draco, stop it this instant!"

"Honestly,  _Father_ , I will not hesitate to kill you, too," Draco snapped coolly, he had no affinity for murdering his kin but he preferred not to. "Tell me, oh Lord, do you know how somebody becomes the way I am?" he didn't expect an answer, he had just snapped the snakes neck, speaking would be terse and hard but he could feel the venom and hatred crawling off of him, Voldemort was reaching for the mark on his forearm now, to call his loyal Death Eaters.

"I will call them, my Lord! I will call them! Blasphemy! Blasphemy!" Bellatrix squealed as he reached for her own wand and pointed it to her forearm, calling the Death Eater's as she ran to the aid of her Lord who swatted her away.

"Malfoy, heal me," he hissed in command, referring to Lucius who stared coldly at his son before going to the aid of his Lord.

Draco ignored them now, he didn't know how well he could fare with dozens of Death Eaters, two and Voldemort wasn't bad, but when the others arrived...he didn't have much time. He came to Harry's side quickly, his mouth snapped open the skin on his wrist and he placed it on the brunette's lips. When there were no immediate response his heart sank, his blood ran cold as it dropped freely into Harry's mouth. Then he felt it. A tongue, scraping against his skin. Then lips, pressed up against the fresh wound. Then there was a loud swallow. Then eyes, fiery, emerald eyes, awake and shining with feverish excitement. Two coarse hands yanked his forearm down closer, pressing the bleeding cut to his hungry mouth. Draco's eyes met the new, sharper emerald eyes in awe. He thought Harry in his human form was the pinnacle of beauty, that the smell of his living blood couldn't get any sweeter. How wrong he had been, as cold skin grasped at his own, clawed at him now for more, suckling like the newborn that he was.

"My love," he whispered, his voice husky and thick, "Do you sense it? Do you taste it?"

Harry didn't need an explanation, he knew what the questions were asking and he did. He felt the death in Draco's blood, the darkness that ran in his veins, the power that jolted through his body. His eyes saw differently, sharper than they ever had. His glasses had been discarded and he had perfect vision, his muscles felt strong as his tongue still lapped at the flowing blood of his lover.

"Imagine; the strongest Wizard of our age, like me," Draco hoarsely spoke to the others in the room, he slowly pried his forearm away from a grasping Harry and he looked down at his new form in awe as he shook his head. "Later, we must deal with this vermon before we can continue," he stood now, slowly, offering his hand out to Harry as he came to a stand as well, his eyes still wide with the new sensations and visions that flooded his body, his mind was ablaze with words and thoughts that weren't his own. 

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, he concentrated on moving quickly, he wasn't sure how Draco could choose to move slowly and so fast the next moment, so he thought it took concentration. How wrong he was as he bolted from Draco's side to Voldemort's barely recovering form, he threw Lucius off of him with such an ease it ran a thrill through his cold body. He didn't have time for words, the excitement was tingling all over him as he stood, teeth barred down at Voldemort. But he knew, he knew he couldn't feed from him, he could smell it. He smelt the death on Voldemort's skin, the blood flowing beneath it was too dirty, too much of it was laced with filthy, black magic, it would poison him. His hands were strong, Voldemort's neck was already shattered, weak, he tried to breathe out words of hatred but Harry was too quick. It was unbelievably easy to murder the Dark Lord beneath the waning strength of newborn vampire, his neck snapped for a second time that evening but as it did, his eyes went dull and blank. The Death Eater's felt the marks on their arms burning, singeing into their skins, they hissed.

"Her," Harry growled, his red eyes focused on a hysterical Bellatrix Lestrange, "May I taste her? Drain her? Please," he had her pinned against the wall in a moment, silenced by his grip on her as his fresh fangs lay inches away from her bare neck, her pulse throbbing in her veins, "Please, Draco, let me..." something was stopping him from feeding automatically, did he need his Maker's permission? Harry wasn't sure, but he also wasn't sure why Draco was waiting to give him the satisfaction. The urge was so strong. His hatred for Bellatrix Lestrange coupled with the scent of her blood, flooding his nostrils and senses.

Draco was behind Harry now, his hands running up his sides as his eyes fluttered closed, "Feed," he ordered and Harry's teeth immediately sank in. It was much better than it had been in the alley on Christmas Day, the blood tasted like pure sweet, liquid iron and Harry couldn't imagine anything ever tasting better or feeling better as it rushed passed his lips and onto his eager tongue, sliding with ease down his throat. Bellatrix was making strangled cries which Harry ignored, his senses focused purely on the feeling of his first feed as a new vampire. Draco could feel all of it through him, it was a wholly new sensation to him as well, to have sired somebody and to be able to feel so closely what they did. It was like when he had fed off of him but much more amplified. Without thought, he found his own teeth sinking into Harry's hardened skin, the brunette stiffened and then moaned against Bellatrix's neck as he fed and had his Maker feeding on him. His arousal began to grow, Draco was moaning as he tasted a new blood in Harry. He could never have expected Harry to ever taste better than he previously did as a human, but he somehow did. Tenfold more satisfying.

Lucius had been watching in silent horror, by now none of the other Death Eaters were to arrive, they all understood what the feeling of their burning Dark Mark meant, it would be too dangerous to arrive at the scene of the Dark Lord's demise. He was silent, flabbergasted, as he watched his son feed on the Harry Potter who fed. It was a truly horrifying and bewildering sight altogether. Once Bellatrix was drained, Harry let her drop in a heap to the floor and turned to face Draco, his eyes flooded red with desire. He didn't move, he stared up at the blonde.

"More, I want more. You, I want more of you...give me-"

Draco's finger landed ontop of Harry's wet, bloodied lips, he was smirking. "Now, now, let's not be too eager, Harry. I recall being just as hungry at first turn," he turned flippantly towards his stilled Father, "I suggest leaving before Harry here finds it too hard to control his urge to take you, too" Lucius didn't need telling twice as he left with a crack, disapparating with a fearful look written across his face. Draco turned to his mate now, smirking devilishly, his hands ran over the feeling of Harry's new, hardened skin. "What do you want, my love?"

"Blood," came Harry's hoarse, husky reply.

Draco chuckled, he recalled just how hard it was to concentrate on anything other than feeding after he had been awakened. "Come, let's see if we can satisfy that hunger,"

They disappeared together, their hands clasped tight around one another's as Draco led Harry away from the Lestrange Manor and their feet carried them as fast as they could to the nearest village. It was safe to say that Harry Potter no longer existed, that a new vampire was born in his death. Tonight was the night Harry Potter died and Harry, the sired of Draco Malfoy, was born.

 


	14. Death of Life

_"We shall live even in this state of living death, we shall love, we shall feel, we shall defy all who would judge and destroy us."_

_Darkness is here._   
_It is stronger than your hopes, your fears._   
_It will devour you the moment you give into it. You will become its very essence._   
_Feed off its strength, off its secrets._   
_Be one with it. With me._   
_Be the gift I've given you._

* * *

Tears were stuck in her throat, her eyes had long since dried as they couldn't bear crying any longer. Her face was red, puffed, she clung to her unmoving, unfeeling boyfriend's side. They hadn't spoken, they hadn't moved from their spot slunk outside the wall of Dumbledore's office. What could they be talking about in there? Harry was dead and the adults only cared about formalities? They had been there, waiting, biding, hoping that when they were welcomed back into the office they would hear news of Draco's arrest or his demise, some kind of punishment for playing Harry the way he did. For using his sorrow, using his loneliness against him.

When the door creaked open to welcome them into the room they jumped to attention, their faces falling at the sullen looks of the two Professor's and the Headmaster that stared at them. "Have you caught the bastard?" Ron immediately growled.

"We have it under great authority, Mr Weasley, that he is still with Harry," Dumbledore spoke calmly.

"Headmaster, Harry's  _dead_ , what is that snake doing now...can't he at least leave his body to rest in peace?!" Ron was screaming now, his stomach filling with the limitless hatred for the blonde demon.

"It's Potter that has chosen to be with my son, to be the same filthy creature he is," Ron and Hermione snapped their heads at the man who had been lurking silently in the shadows of Dumbledore's office, they both looked equally upset and dishevelled at seeing Lucius.

"But we saw Harry die," Hermione said plainly, blinking at the older Malfoy.

"Here Ms Granger is supposedly the cleverest of her age," Snape scowled at the sneer Ron sent him, Hermione's face falling slightly, "You two should be well aware now that there are many ways one can die, what you saw was true death, when the heart stops beating-"

"-What Draco has given him, is the Death of Life," Lucius' voice was distant, cold.

"No," Ron said firmly, "You can't be serious...Harry...Professor," Ron turned to Dumbledore, his face ridden with understanding and confusion, "You have to do something, arrest Malfoy, he's forced Harry against his will! I know it, Harry wouldn't agree-" 

"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore spoke calmly, "The students are not property of the school while they are on leave. As much as it haunts us to see it, it is the truth. Mr Potter has chosen to have young Mr Malfoy sire him. It has been done and cannot be changed. I saw this coming when he was questioned under Veritaserum,"

"You saw it coming?! Why didn't you bloody well do something to stop it then?" Ron screamed at the Headmaster, the other adults in the room were silent, watching the redhead's explosive temper calmly.

Hermione was frowning deeply, her eyebrows knitted as she softly spoke, "You didn't stop it because you saw this. You knew he could defeat Voldemort with Malfoy's help...you sacrificed his life-"

"He choose to sacrifice his own for a new one, that was beyond my control no matter the outcome of their decisions," Dumbledore spoke clearly now, "The Dark Lord has fallen, Mr Weasley and Ms Granger, that is what matters here, tonight. I suspect your Mother is greatly anticipating your arrival home, Mr Weasley,"

It was both Gryffindor's that scowled now, equally as enraged, "But where's Harry now?" Hermione asked, she still cared so much for him and Ron did, too, beneath his hatred.

It was Lucius who answered their question, "Where he will forever remain; with my son, with his Maker,"

* * *

There he was again; at a loss for the word to pin to his emotions. He knew there was no need to pick one but he felt he needed to. He needed to put a sense to this feeling, the perfection in the collaboration of their minds, their bodies. They had moved as one, they fed as one, words rarely escaped their lips as speaking was unnecessary. Calm, Harry decided, was the word for what Draco had given him with his gift, a perfection of nature.

It had taken the rest of the holidays to be able to understand his new self, the new urges that Harry found monumentally difficult to suppress. When the first day of the new term dawned, it was impossibly hard for Harry to choose to be at Hogwarts, mingling amongst the congratulating, overly glad crowds that swarmed him. He pushed past them, they gave his new strength, his new cold, piercing emerald eyes to the fact he had just freshly murdered one of the darkest, greatest Wizard's of all time. They didn't know. The Daily Prophet had no word. All that was confirmed was that the Dark Lord was vanquished, Harry Potter lived again, and for some reason his lover, always attached at his side, had something to do with it. Questions barked at them, they were silenced. It took not more than a half-day for the students to realize that the more they badgered, the quicker they would find themselves in a terrifying and compromising situation.

"Should we?" Hermione quipped, it was on their way to Potions class. They didn't know what to expect upon seeing Harry back at school, they actually hadn't expected him to return at all. It was hard to keep their breakfast down when Harry had waltzed into the Great Hall, his back straight and head high beside Malfoy, their hands clenched around one another's as whispers grew into shouts and some clapped, some scowled.

"No. He's a dirty rotten monster," Ron spat venomously, he knew his girlfriend was alluding to approaching him or speaking with him.

Just outside of the Potions dungeon stood the brunette they were speaking of. Harry was leaning against the corridor wall, his arms crossed, his unblinking eyes burning into his housemates. "Weasley, Granger," he nodded stiffly to be of them, Ron narrowed his eyes dangerously, he sounded too much like Malfoy who was thankfully absent at the moment.

"Harry, uhm, we're glad...you're not dead. We had thought-"

Hermione's words were cut-off by a dark, low chuckle. "But, I am dead," he leaned in towards her, his twisted smirk made her shudder all over. He seemed crazed, a totally different person, he was no longer filled of sorrow but there was something new there and wholly more terrifying than whatever was buried before.

"What do you want, Potter?" Ron returned, sure he was happy his friend hadn't been murdered but he certainly wasn't on any grounds to befriend him once again. There was no turning back, it was plain, Harry had chosen Malfoy over them.

Harry's smirk widened. He fed off the anger from Ron and the dread seeping from Hermione, it fuelled him in an inexplicable way, he made his mouth water. How right Draco had been when he said the higher the emotions, the more sweet the blood smelt, the tastier it had been. Harry found his mind wandering to what their blood would taste like on his eager lips, his eyes began to dilate as he smelt the iron in his nostrils once again, he had an almost dreamy, twisted expression that caused Hermione and Ron to share a concerned look. "Do forgive him, even though he is mine he has not quite the control I do," Draco's voice sounded like silken ice, he stepped from the classroom, his arm snaking around Harry's waist and pulling him closer. The brunette perked his attention immediately to his Maker, his nostrils filled with his scent instead. His blood was the most savouring of all, Harry found himself craving it constantly.

"Bugger off, the both of you," Ron murmured and attempted to side step them into the classroom, Harry caught his arm and brought him to a stop, his eyes were intense as they met, his cold and stone-like skin alarmed the redhead.

"I wanted to tell you to stop thinking so loudly about me, it's piercing my head and rather annoying," Harry drawled, his stature and his voice sounded too akin to Draco's.

"Listening to our thoughts now?" Ron quipped, clicking his tongue, annoyed. He turned to Hermione who was just watching, staring at the powerful and daunting couple, "You're both bloody unnatural," he hissed beneath his breath and pulled her away and into the classroom.

Harry smirked as he watched them leave, Draco pulled him closer, purring as he spoke, "Here I thought you would get sentimental on me with those prats,"

"Draco, what do you take me for?"

"A Gryffindor," Draco grinned slyly, "Come, I'm not fond of the idea of classes this afternoon,"

Harry need not be told twice, he would give anything to slip away whenever the opportunity arose to enrapture himself in Draco's presence. This was everything he had hoped it could be. He felt no remorse of facing his old friends, no ill thoughts for his house mates or classmates or Professor's that frowned at his state or his interactions with his Maker. He didn't care. Truly, did not care. No longer did anger find him or hatred, the power that rushed through his thick, cold veins gifted him the truest feelings he had ever felt; of dominance over others and submission to his love, his Maker, his Draco. Harry had never thought that being owned would be so freeing, that being another's property so fulfilling.

There were no doubts, no regrets, no second thoughts. Harry would follow Draco wherever he led. He would please him whenever he could, he would strive to see that blood-stained smirk that tantalized his very being. They would do as they pleased, they would separate themselves for the pitiful world they had known before and fall deeper than they ever could into the wonders of the greatest gift ever given; the gift of impenetrable darkness.

_Fin._

 


End file.
